


Fight For Your Heart

by funkdoc1112



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depression, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Future, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Cell Games Saga, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27692978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkdoc1112/pseuds/funkdoc1112
Summary: Three years after the Cell Games and his father's heroic sacrifice, Gohan finds himself in a mental funk, withdrawing himself from his friends and losing his desire to fight. Against his better judgment, he participates in the 25th Martial Arts Tournament, where a fiery challenger just might be the cure for his restless spirit.
Relationships: Videl Satan/Son Gohan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	1. Empty

It wasn't exactly neuroscience. He'd seen his mentor do it under waterfalls for years. With how stoic and calm he remained even during the direst of situations, it obviously worked.

So why couldn't Gohan focus and meditate?

The teenaged half-Saiyan floated cross-legged, eyes closed, before the vast stream of water flowing throughout the forests of Mt. Paoz. It was a mimic of Piccolo, sure, but it didn't measure up. Whatever sense of tranquility filling Gohan's mind only lasted a fleeting moment. Most of his "meditation" was spent twitching restlessly and wondering what in the hell was wrong with him.

A decade of planting his nose in textbooks should have provided the obvious answer – he was fourteen. The absolute prime year for teenage angst, outburst of anger, bad acne and unfounded hatred of parents. Yet Gohan sensed something deeper.

It had been three years since the Cell Games. In fact, the anniversary of the exact date was closing in. Every day, Gohan's mind drifted to the events; not so tough since his father's permanent absence was an easy reminder. The combination of his frightening sadism and arrogance against Cell, Goku's absent-minded battle junkie behavior, the crying two-and-a-half year-old Goku clone responsible for permanent bags under his and his mother's eyes, and the Goku-sized void in his life reduced Gohan to a guilt-ridden shell of himself.

Throwing himself into books sounded like an easy solution to distract his mind, but that only reminded him of Goku's old tries at sneaking him away from his studies for a training excursion. And he sure as hell wouldn't find peace from playing with his baby brother Goten - again, his smile and hair was a daily dose of Goku-Face. Shit, this waterfall was the same one he was dangling precariously from ten years ago when he tried escaping from a tiger, the day everything changed.

It sure seemed like the universe was set on reminding Gohan of the mess he'd made. _Sheesh, Piccolo, how do you do it?_

"Oh, there you are, Gohan!"

The boy's eyes instantly flicked open. He dreaded even looking at the scolding face accompanying that voice. "Uh…sorry mom, I didn't mean to be out long! I'll go back to stu-"

"Oh no, you're fine! There's something else I want to tell you!" Chi-Chi stood atop a cliff, looking down below at her son. There was relieved smile on her face. Goten was asleep for once, ergo she could actually see the outside world!

His mother's assurance gave Gohan a relieved breath. Seconds later he floated back up to the land to face her. "What's up?"

"I just got off the phone with Bulma. Did you know they actually started doing the World Martial Arts tournaments again?" Chi-Chi asked.

"Huh, really?" Gohan feigned interest, but the whole tournament business was before his time. He'd only heard of it in stories, and with his present strength he and the rest of his comrades were far beyond that level of competition. But whatever subject took his mother's mind off schoolwork was a welcome one.

Chi-Chi clasped her hands together as her smile grew more anxious, almost a negotiating look. "Now, promise you won't get annoyed…"

"Okay…?" asked Gohan with an arched eyebrow.

"Well, the 25th one is coming up in a week. I know I'm always 'study this' and 'study that', buuuut…." Chi-Chi cautiously twiddled her thumbs.

Gohan sighed, predicting the next sentence…

"I think you should join!" Chi-Chi braced herself for one of the harsh rebukes that became a little more commonplace from the teenager, but received a pensive frown instead.

"But mom, I'm way too strong for those guys," Gohan grumbled "You might as well have just bought me a punching bag or something…"

"I know, I know, I was expecting that. But Bulma said she's getting the whole gang to come along, too!" Chi-Chi assured. While that got a smile out of Gohan, it was a sour one.

"Oh, okay…" Gohan mumbled, eyes drifting to the grass.

"Why the long face, son?" Chi-Chi queried with a concerned hand on her hip. She figured Gohan wanted a reprieve from the eternal hours of reading and babysitting. "Those tournaments were probably the most fun your father ever had."

His _father_. His father had fun with the tournaments. Sure, Gohan liked the occasional spar, but Goku was a different animal. The boy knew his father well enough that the real wonder of those tournaments was discovering the huge array of martial artists across the world, back in a time where Goku wasn't thousands of tiers above them. What sense of wonder would there have been for a studious pacifist like him?

"It's just…fighting's not really my thing," Gohan muttered to an eye-roll from Chi-Chi.

"I know a green alien and a creaky window that would disagree," Chi-Chi answered with a sly smile. Gohan's crooked, guilty smile affirmed her stance (although it had been quite a while since he sparred with Piccolo!). "But c'mon, I know you must be tired of staying around here all day. A little socializing won't kill you."

After Gohan's dreary glance towards the wilderness, Chi-Chi opted for a more direct approach. "Look, Gohan, I know fighting's a sore subject for you these days. I don't blame you for being antsy about it. But, I think over the years I've gone kinda overboard with the whole schoolwork stuff. You need some balance. Plus, Bulma said the future Trunks should be coming back any day now!"

"Oh, really?" Gohan asked excitedly. _Maybe he'll be in the tournament…_

That _might_ actually be interesting.

Gohan scratched the back of his head, shrugging. "I'll think about it, I guess."

"Just give it a shot." Chi-Chi smiled wearily and headed back to her house. She expected Gohan resisting the idea, but it didn't quell her concerns. While Gohan wasn't the temperamental, emotional wreck that would be expected of somebody who lived his life, his disposition had soured since Goku made his choice to remain dead. The unpredictable drifts to the outdoors betrayed a soul trying to find itself.

With a frustrated sigh, Gohan looked the heavens. Maybe Goku was watching. Heck, maybe he could hear his thoughts. _I guess tournaments can't get me hyped up like you…_

* * *

With all of the bizarre occurrences at the Capsule Corporation dome, a yellow pod appearing out of thin air should have likely failed to raise any alarm from the citizens of West City. Yet when the tall man with lavender hair emerged from it's glass seal, he was met with startled stares and motorists skidding in the streets.

Not that Trunks minded, of course. He was just glad to see a healthy, thriving city. It certainly beat the hell out of a dwindling population attempting to rebuild it.

The Androids that annihilated his timeline were defeated. The Cell that was fated to kill him and steal the time machine he was now reducing to capsule form couldn't even lay a finger on him. Safe to say, Bulma's plan to save two timelines was a rousing success; now Trunks just wanted to tell the gang whose lives it saved how things went on his end.

After announcing his name to the Capsule Corp. door's automated voice, Trunks beamed as the door swung open. The same blue hair he'd just bid farewell in another dimension was greeting him.

"Trunks! Oh, thank God, you stuck with short hair!" Bulma gleamed as she pulled her big son in for a hug.

"Pretty sure I survived Cell and the Androids, too," Trunks replied, chuckling.

"Well duh, that was obvious," Bulma rebuked, playfully punching Trunks in the shoulder. A proud smirk decorated her face. "I wouldn't expect anything less of my son. Now come on in!"

It seemed like present and future Bulma were both on the save wavelength about their own hair, too, because this one sported a shorter cut as well. She led Trunks inside and down the hall, muttering about how excited she was for him to see everyone again.

"Hey, mom! Guess who came to visit!" Bulma called as she and Trunks arrived in the living room. Her eccentric, blonde mother gasped in pleasant surprise.

"Oh, it's Big Trunks!" she exclaimed, running up to him. Trunks blushed as she gave him a hug; doting no matter what timeline. "How's my other favorite grandson doing?"

 _Big Trunks_. _Other_ favorite grandson. Trunks hadn't even thought about that can of worms until he looked over his grandmother's shoulder and found a rather frazzled miniature clone of himself watching from the couch with his mouth gaped open.

The little Trunks could only grunt and blink rapidly at the tall, jean jacket-clad man with hair just like his own who his mom and grandma greeted like an old friend (and looked him with a weary smile on his face). He turned right to look at himself in the mirror on the wall. Then he whipped his head back to "Big Trunks." The face was awfully familiar. Little Trunks looked at his own face in the mirror once more. Then back to Big Trunks. Then back to the mirror. Then back to Big Trunks again.

It was certainly like, well…looking in the mirror.

"Um…uh…um…" was all Trunks could get out before bursting into a spring of confused tears.

"Aw, Trunks, don't cry! You're just confused, that's all" Bulma cooed as she held the little one in her arms.

"B-But he looks too much like _me_ , mom!" the four-year-old whimpered.

Future Trunks choked out a few laughs as he glued his eyes to the floor. "Looks like" was certainly an understatement.

"Well, that's because he _is_ you! He came all the way from the future!" Bulma proudly declared.

" _Mom!"_ Future Trunks bellowed. Was she crazy?!

"Oh c'mon, did you have a better story? He's a sharp kid – you should know." Bulma shrugged as she patted little Trunks on the head.

Whelp, there went the cousin story.

Little Trunks wiped away snot as he tried to stifle his whimpers. Things were starting to make a bit more sense. "That's really me?"

"Uh huh," Bulma nodded as Future Trunks lifted a hand and waved. Little Trunks blinked a few more times.

"HOLY SHIT!"

Future Trunks stumbled. His face smacked against the well-waxed marble floor. While grandma laughed, Bulma seethed.

"Trunks!" she scolded, smacking the younger of the half-Saiyans on his arm. "What have I told you about your language?!"

"S-Sorry!"

"So from the sound of it, father's still around?" Trunks deduced as he picked himself up from the floor. He could hardly stand straight before the little one zipped to his feet at startling speed.

The frowning and tears were long gone, replaced by a smile that the older Trunks hadn't seen on himself in a good decade. The younger Trunks had his fists clenched in wonder and excitement as he looked up at him. "Ooh, does this mean you can boss Goten around?! I bet he's still weaker than you in the future, right?!"

"Goten?" Trunks asked Bulma, an eyebrow raised.

"Goku and Chi-Chi's second son!" Bulma answered. "Guess Chi-Chi wanted to keep him pumped up before the Cell Games, if ya know what I mean."

Trunks' face painfully contorted, shoulders slumping under the weight of embarrassment. Different timelines, same vulgar mouth. Did she forget about her toddler in the room whom she just scolded for bad language?!

That couldn't stop the smile that spread on his lips, however. If fiddling with the space-time-continuum and changing history was a crime, Trunks would gladly plead guilty.

"That's great to hear, mom!" Trunks beamed. "I'd love to meet him!"

Bulma reached down to grab the younger Trunks by his shoulders. "If you thought this little tyke is a clone, wait 'till you see Goten. You'd think Goku got reincarnated!"

That last part stung just a bit. "Man, it's a shame Goku wound up dying, anyway," he murmured. "Now he has a kid he'll never see."

Bulma placed a soothing hand on her elder son's cheek. He always tended to take on everybody else's worries. "It's nothing to be down about. In your time, he didn't even live long enough to have him. Now he's got a kid that'll grow up and not even know what an Android is!"

Now that was something to smile about at. Future Trunks' cerulean eyes glowed as they watched the energetic doppelganger before him.

"And you have one, too."

Bulma nodded proudly. Her son certainly inherited her way with words.

"Ooh, Mom, can I show Big Me my room?!" Little Trunks pleaded, jumping up and down like his shoes had cushions on them. He paused after confusing himself, however, and turned back around to his older self. "Oh wait, you already know what my room looks like anyway."

"No, that's fine. I'm sure you've got plenty of toys that I never had in my time," Trunks replied, turning on his heel to lead the way to his, well, _their_ room. Bulma followed them, laughing at the thought of the younger Trunks finding a big brother in the form of himself. He definitely wasted no time in firing off questions.

"Do they have mind-reading phones in the future? Can you watch TV in your brain?!" The toddler jumped up to the adult's wrist and grabbed his watch. "Ooh I bet this can fire lasers!"

Trunks laughed to himself; future gadgets were a welcome change in question subjects from dead fathers, that was for sure. Although that placed the subject of Vegeta on his mind. Tuning out the boy's hyperactive questionnaire, Trunks turned to Bulma.

"Hey, where's father, anyway? I can't sense his Ki around here."

Bulma's angry grunt wasn't the first response Trunks wanted to hear. "Oh, probably off being depressed and staring at mountains, as he's been wont to do for the last few years. I swear, between Gohan and Vegeta, the Saiyan race has replaced fighting with moping. Can't blame 'em, I guess."

Trunks found himself frowning again as they reached his room. "Goku?"

"Goku." Bulma echoed. "They're both shaken up about it for _completely_ different reasons and coping the exact same way. Vegeta still comes around and gives little Trunks some drills, but his passion for fighting's all dried up. As it has in other areas…"

Trunks could've done without the last part, although his mind trailed off while he rested on the space-ship covered bedsheets and observed a picture framed on his dresser, Sure enough, there was Vegeta, sporting his trademark snarl as the infant Trunk tugged one of the many spikes in his hair. It was a snapshot that filled Trunks with as much regret as it did happiness. Vegeta and Gohan certainly weren't the only Saiyans weighed by loss, even in the face of victory.

As the little Trunks emptied his closets with a virtual armory of toys to display, his adult self gazed across, only absent-mindedly nodding at his motor-mouthed action figure expositions. The Gohan of his time bore the pain of losing not just his father, but every single friend. But he had no time to mourn it with the threat of the Androids constantly looming. It was a chaotic life that had to have taken a mental toll on his instructor. There weren't many people to confide in, a girl whose name escaped in being the only other person Trunks recalled hearing of. This era had plenty, but its Gohan desired space above all.

"Hey, Big Me, is Gohan still a dork in the future? I hope he doesn't end up as my teacher or somethin'" Little Trunks suddenly asked, snapping Future Trunks out of his trance. If he didn't know any better, he would've thought their minds were connected. Future Trunks only offered a dour smile in response.

"I-I'm sure he is, Trunks," Bulma stammered to the younger one. Young or old, Bulma could read her son's facial expressions like a research paper. Her future son clearly remained apprehensive about that subject.

"Anyway, speaking of Gohan, I'm actually glad you've come now," Bulma said, switching subjects. "There's a World Martial Arts Tournament coming up, and Chi-Chi talked him into joining! It's not much of a competition, but the whole gang's entering, too. Should be fun, maybe."

"Oh really?!" Trunks asked, his eyes lighting up. "That would be a great way to reconnect with everybody. When is it?"

"Three days."

"Oh, I wanna go, too!" squealed the younger Trunks. "Can I enter, mom?!"

Bulma and Future Trunks both laughed as Bulma answered, "I think you'll need another three years before you're ready for that."

"Oh c'mon, papa's been givin' me lotsa training," the boy insisted. "I can compete with the grown-ups no problem!"

"The answer's final, Trunks," Bulma ordered as the boy groaned. "But I'm sure they'll appreciate you cheering along!"

Little Trunks mumbled "whatever" as Bulma left the room. Trunks glanced up to make sure she was gone and raised a hand to his pampered past counterpart. "Hey kid, let's see what ya got."

The young Trunks gulped as he watched his older self. His presence was certainly exciting, but also overwhelming on the young one's mind. That was literally _himself_ who was talking to him. It made him amped, jealous, nervous…every emotion bottled up into one. But he could tell this one was strong; why wouldn't he be? He was him, after all.

Finally, Little Trunks firmly nodded. He balled up his tiny fist and punched Big Trunks' palm as hard as he could.

And he actually rocked Future Trunks backwards. There was no exaggeration on his part, either. Vegeta was certainly making an impact on him. It was more than just his power, however. Future Trunks was never a bold kid even from a young age; the circumstances he was raised into were far too melancholy. They frightened him more than anything.

This Trunks, on the other hand? Vibrant, confidant, and playful. A luxury of the lack of weight on his shoulders.

"You're pretty strong, Kiddo! You'll grow up like me in no time." Future Trunks recoiled just slightly at that one. Hopefully that was in power only.

As Trunks took off to the hallway, he spotted an unoccupied room. Judging from the armor left discarded on the floor, it was his father's. The first thing that struck him was his father and Bulma still having separate rooms, revealing a clear distance still present between the two. The other thing was, the armor being on the floor and not wherever Vegeta was staying. Another warrior shying from combat.

Saiyans had fighting in their blood, but for the strongest ones remaining, it was flowing to a heavy heart.

* * *

Gohan sighed as he looked through the window, chin buried in his hand. Chi-Chi was piloting her hovercar, one of the many headed to the tournament's host, Papaya Island. Her road (sky?) rage and Goten's naïve observations were the only things keeping Gohan awake.

"Ooh, can we hop on the bird too, Gohan?" Goten asked. The boy was two-and-a-half and loaded with questions.

"I don't think he's big enough, Goten," Gohan answered, his eyes not leaving the window. It was hard to not tune him out most times. Gohan wondered if he was just as hyperactive at that age.

As much as he couldn't get enthused for the tournament, Gohan at least looked the part in his father's signature orange & blue uniform. Piccolo made it on his request months prior to at least keep some trace of his father…not that he ever found much use for it, since the idea of fighting made him squirm most of the time.

After an hour of traversing among hundreds of cars, what was left of the Son Family landed. Chi-Chi stirred at the heavy urbanization Papaya Island had taken on. What was a once a sacred ground of martial artists now looked like any other city around the world. Far more children running around, too, amplifying the noise a few decibels higher. The ex-competitor couldn't move her head in either direction without finding a merchandise stand, either, most of them dedicated to the alleged savior of the world.

"Sheesh, looks like the corporations got their hands on the tournament. Where's the authentic fighting spirit?!" Chi-Chi lamented. Gohan withdrew any of his comments of the "told ya so" variety. With every step he took, the more Gohan doubted he'd find anything to ease his emptiness.

Not even the familiar group that stopped to greet him.

"Hey, Gohan! Chi-Chi! Nice to see ya made it!" Called the short guy with a full (!) head of hair that Gohan may not have recognized if not for the lack of nose.

"Hey, Krillin!" Chi-Chi greeted.

Gohan put on his most convincing smile and mumbled a quick "Hi." Krillin's hair threw him off, but the rest of the crew looked the same – Roshi, Oolong, Puar, and Yamcha, who wasn't in his fighting gear. Not surprisingly, the gang turned their attention to Goten.

"Hey, little guy! I swear you look more and more like your pops every day!" Krillin said to the toddler.

Goten pointed and laughed at Krillin. "Hey, it's no-nose again!" Krillin huffed while the crew erupted with laughter, although the most Gohan could muster was a light chuckle. Master Roshi marched over to greet him.

"Hey, Gohan; how's it holdin' up, young man?" Roshi asked.

"I'm fine, thanks," came Gohan's automated response. "This tournament must back some memories for you."

"Indeed. And you wear the uniform well, I might add."

Gohan nodded, although he began to regret his choice of outfit since it ensured that the shadow of Goku would cast over everything. Then again, why was he even there to begin with? That shadow would loom regardless of his clothes.

"I prefer the purple look, personally."

Gohan spotted a nearby tree, although he didn't need to look over there to identify that voice. It gave him his first genuine smile in a while. "Hey, Piccolo."

Piccolo was his usual stone-faced, cross-armed self, preferring the isolation the leaves and shade of the tree provided. "Everything alright, kid?"

Gohan suspected Piccolo already knew the answer, but he at least attempted a fib. "Yeah, sure, I guess."

"You haven't sparred in a while."

"I know," Gohan hastily replied. "I can't find any reason to get excited about fighting these days…some hero I am, huh?"

Piccolo shrugged. Gohan was as tough on himself as always. His biggest strength, and his biggest weakness, was his big heart. Always burdening himself.

"Well if you have no reason to fight, what brings you here?" Piccolo inquired.

Gohan observed his friends as they laughed and caught up with each other. Enjoying themselves. Sure, they all missed Goku at least as much as he did, yet they could live happy regardless. Envy and regret filled his eyes.

"Looking for an answer, I guess."

"Hn."

The rest of the gang joined the mentor and student. Chi-Chi wasn't surprised that Gohan immediately took to Piccolo, and was honestly grateful. She could say a lot about Piccolo – kidnapper, fighting maniac, monster, corrupter, whatever – but her son looked up to him and always received his guidance. And she was sure his insistence on internalizing all of his turmoil meant he was sorely lacking it.

"Dammit, Piccolo! I at least wanted to make the finals!" Krillin groaned, drawing a smirk from the Namekian.

"Just try not blowing up the ring, 'Ma Junior,'" Yamcha snickered.

"No promises."

As everybody laughed at a rare moment of humor from ol' Big Green, they were joined by another group. "Getting the party started without us, eh?"

"Bulma!" Krillin called. "And Trunks! And Trunks!"

Pause.

"Holy crap, Trunks, you're back!" The friends gathered around the Briefs family to catch up with the warrior who helped save their fates. Krillin cringed when he glanced at the younger Trunks, however. "Oh wait, excuse me. _Boxers_ , visiting your cousins, I see!" Krillin fibbed, carefully watching the younger Trunks. Future Trunks could only weakly chuckle. _Boxers?_

"Save it Krillin, he knows," Bulma said with a dismissive wave. She could hardly stifle her laughter. "But seriously, _Boxers_?"

"Yeah, I can't lie under pressure," Krillin said, scratching his newfound head of hair.

"So I take it the Androids in your timeline are done for?" Yamcha asked.

"Yup," Trunks answered, smiling broadly. "I waited another three years for Cell to wake up and took care of him, too. I was glad when mom told me about this tournament; 'bout time I got a chance to fight without anything important on the line."

"We can all agree on that one."

Trunks shifted his attention to the one person who probably couldn't agree. "Hey, Gohan!"

Gohan smiled back at Trunks. He was noticeably taller since the warrior of the future had last been in this era, and with his outfit of choice it gave Trunks intense déjà vu. Gohan was growing up into the man his master wished he was.

"Glad to see you back, Trunks," Gohan replied, with genuine joy. "I guess I'm not the only to defeat Cell, now."

Krillin laughed a bit, but quickly grew annoyed. "And now with both of you in the tournament my victory's even more of a pipe dream. At least my wife can't compete with the pregnancy and all, or else I might as well not even enter!"

"Wife?" Trunks asked. Not that he thought that little of Krillin, but he settled down with a fighter, apparently? One that was strong enough to be considered a serious contender in the tournament at that? "Oh yeah, I remember mom mentioned you getting married. I didn't know she was a fighter, too. Who is she?"

Trunks felt like the butt of a practical joke when Krillin merely responded with a smirk and a shrug of his shoulders, while Yamcha, Bulma, Roshi, and even Gohan tried to hold back laughter. "Oh, I think you know her a little bit," Yamcha said in between snorts.

Trunks narrowed his eyes in confusion, "Who…?"

"Dammit, Krillin, the food around here is awful."

Without thought, Trunks instantly tensed up and squared his shoulders for battle. That voice he'd just heard to his right was one he could never forget, and sent a chill down his spine. He swiftly shifted to the object of the voice. It was unmistakable – the blonde hair, those icy, pale, blue eyes, and…

…a belly the size of a balloon?

On Android 18?

The Android that helped destroy his timeline, the very reason he traveled to this era?

The same Android that Krillin seemed unusually interested in, which led to him ruining their plan to stop Cell by brea - Oh, right.

But still.

" _What the fuck?!"_ Trunks shrieked, hardly recognizing the high-pitched whine that escaped his mouth. That brought the biggest laugh of the day, by far.

Android 18 shifted her aloof stare to the quivering, purple-haired mess. "Oh, I remember you. You were another one of the Saiyans, right?"

"Yes," Trunks replied, more tersely than he intended.

"What's your deal, anyway?" #18 probed. Krillin wasn't sure if it was the hormones or her usual disposition, but whatever the case was, he hastily jumped between the two to smooth things over. She connected the dots on her own, however. "Ah, right. Krillin gave me the scoop. You must be here to tell us you finally killed me in the future, right?"

Trunks nodded. It wasn't particularly warm out, yet his forehead was damp with sweat.

"Well you're lucky I've got this baby in me, or else I'd have to get some payback," she said with a challenging smirk, reaching over to give him a light, playful jab to the cheek.

Trunks looked at #18 like she'd grown a third eye, his face as red as Krillin's shirt. A friendly, playful exchange with Android 18. _I sure did a number on this timeline, huh?_ He said to himself. Was this what it felt like to have one's life come full circle?

Well, whatever the case was, Trunks was glad to see that the newfound peace was very favorable to Krillin and gave him a family. Even if the result provided Trunks with a lethal cocktail of nausea and existential crisis.

As everyone laughed at the painfully awkward meeting, Piccolo felt a distinct Ki makes it arrival. "Well, I'll be damned,"

Just as Gohan was about to ask Piccolo what he was talking about, he felt it too. He nearly echoed Piccolo's sentiments. Those amongst them who could sense Ki felt it hit too, and they all swung around to face the familiar flame-haired figure leaning nonchalantly against the wall, arms folded.

"F-Father?!" Trunks stuttered.

"Hn."

Both versions of Trunks approached Vegeta, who looked off to the side, feeling what could almost be called embarrassment. While the younger Trunks opted to parade around his legs while screaming hyperactively, the elder smiled and nodded. There wasn't much that needed to be said between the two.

"Well look who decided to show his face again," Bulma sneered. "You probably just wondered why there were so many power levels gathered up."

"That would be correct," Vegeta replied evenly, although his half-smirk showed he was mostly teasing to spite her.

"Are you joining the tournament, too?" Trunks asked.

"Is that what all of these festivities are for? What a joke," Vegeta scoffed. Krillin silently cheered.

Trunks immediately knew what button to press. "Oh, well I'm joining too. So's Gohan."

Vegeta looked clean past his son to observe the younger half-Saiyan. The boy obviously hadn't trained since the battle, although he'd be a hypocrite to scold him for it. Since the Cell Games ended, Vegeta had excruciatingly stuck to his vow to never fight again, save for training Trunks. As much as the subject of battle had soured for him, it was the only way of connecting to his son that wasn't a foreign concept.

Besides that, Gohan was considerably stronger than him.

He was the son of low class. How much could Vegeta let that stand?

The prince closed his eyes.

"Feh. Guess I'll give it a shot."

As Krillin slumped in despair, Trunks smiled. Mission accomplished. As annoyed as Bulma was, she was content to hear the news.

"You still have my armor, woman?" Vegeta asked. The three-day old white tank-top and black jeans certainly weren't suitable fighting attire.

"I didn't bring your stuff since I didn't expect you to show up," Bulma said with just a slight trace of resentment. "Besides, I don't think they allow armor in competition."

Vegeta rolled his eyes at such an absurd notion. But he supposed he could make this attire work – it wouldn't be the oddest outfit he'd worn to battle in his life.

Nobody was more surprised by Vegeta's sudden appearance than Gohan. He _very_ clearly hadn't come to join in on the tournament, and judging from the light shade of red in his eyes, he'd been out and about for a while. Perhaps he sensed Trunks' arrival earlier on but chose to wait to reunite with him. The fact that he made the gesture spoke volumes about where he and Trunks stood with each other, although his outburst against Cell made that clear enough. Gohan once again looked towards the clouds – the barrier keeping him from a reunion he desperately needed.

As Gohan lost himself in his thoughts, a siren caught his alarm.

"Check-in closes in five minutes!" announced a short man sitting at a table.

"We never were the types for punctuality," Krillin said. "Let's hurry up." The gang got in line…

* * *

"Junior Division?!"

Never had two words irritated Gohan so much before. "What do you mean?!"

The tournament employee nonchalantly shrugged. "Sorry, but all competitors aged seven through fifteen have to fight in the junior division. It's for your safety, kiddo."

 _Kiddo_? Okay, Bulma and the others used that word affectionately with him, but Gohan wasn't about to be patronized by some stranger with no clue of where he stood on the power food chain. The step that he took towards the table was just a smidge too threatening for Chi-Chi's taste, so she nudged him back and marched forward in his place.

"I'll have you know my late husband - who was the last champion before you all revived this tournament, I might add – was even younger than our son when he entered and finished runner-up of the whole thing," Chi-Chi argued on her son's behalf. "So, save me this crap about 'safety!'"

"Sorry, but rules are rules," the man said with a meek smile, attempting to defuse the situation.

"Oh, whatever," Gohan said, turning on his heel. There was absolutely no purpose for being there if he couldn't even fight the only ones who stood a chance of aiding him in igniting his father's competitive flame. He'd probably get an earful from Chi-Chi when she made it back home, but he decided flying off was for the best. He began to gather his Ki, when…

"Hey! Don't act like you're so special, you heard the guy. You're not the only one who wishes he could fight the grown folks, so just deal with it."

Gohan halted his escape at the sound of that provocative voice. It was feminine, but imposing. He swung back around, curious of who was speaking to him so rudely…

It was a girl, alright. One that froze him for reasons he'd never had a chance to think about in his short life. For one thing, she looked to be around his age, a youthful exuberance lighting her blue eyes…eyes that immediately made the word "pretty" ring off in Gohan's scattered teenage mind. Although she was almost mimicking Vegeta with her fierce glare and cross-armed stance.

"Um, yeah…I guess," Gohan absent-mindedly replied.

Chi-Chi wanted to address this girl and her pigtail-hairstyle who was speaking so rudely to Gohan, but upon seeing the somewhat glazed look in her son's eyes, she simply smiled and chose to let this little quarrel play out.

The fiery young lady snapped her fingers in Gohan's face. "Anybody home?"

The gesture earned an abrupt, alert glare from the half-Saiyan. "What was that for?"

"Just getting your attention," she said with a coy smile that dared to send Gohan back to the daze he had fallen victim to. "Anyway, the rules are rules, and besides, if you're my age and want to fight, you're gonna have to get through me." She boastfully pointed her gloved thumb at herself.

"Really?"

The pigtailed teen was left befuddled. "Uh, do you even know who I am?"

"Nope," Gohan bluntly replied. He certainly wished he did, though.

"Well, the name's Videl, and I'm the reigning Junior Division Champ," she proclaimed, a smirk painting her features. She extended her hand expecting a shake, although Gohan didn't react. He found the gesture more arrogant than salutary. Besides, he seemed more captivated by the way her pigtails waved whenever she moved.

"…Well?!" Videl glared, growing flustered with the boy.

Gohan briskly shook his head, restoring his mind to the regular world. "Oh…um, sorry. I just don't have much to prove here." On one hand, he was preparing to turn back around to leave the island for good, but on the other hand, he wanted to keep looking at her.

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean? Are you saying you're better than me?" Videl snarled.

Gohan's shrug and apologetic expression was enough of an answer for Videl. She nearly felt steam come out of her nose.

"Just who…who…?!" Videl's words trailed off, her anger giving way to concentration as she narrowed her eyes. There was something about the boy's wild, spiky hair and outfit that was striking her.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" she finally asked.

"Maybe?" Gohan said with another shrug. He was just humoring her; if they'd met before, he would've been more prone to mysterious dazes throughout his lifetime.

The light bulb went off in her head. "Wait, it's you!" She firmly pointed her index finger at Gohan's face. "You're the 'Delivery Boy' who fought Cell!"

At that, Gohan laughed internally, though he chose to stretch this game out. "You think so? Didn't that kid have blonde hair and blue eyes?" Green eyes, but he didn't want to sound too knowledgeable.

"You can't fool me, there were guys there who could change their hair color," Videl argued. Now that she mentioned it, she recognized some of the folks who signed up before Gohan. She triumphantly folded her arms. "I've got you figured out!"

Gohan closed his eyes and snickered. When they opened, his pupils were a brilliant shade of teal. "Ya got me."

Videl's knees buckled. Just slightly, of course.

Regaining her composure (his eyes going back to normal certainly helped) she resumed boldly pointing at him. "N-No wonder you're acting like such a hotshot." Really? "I bet you think you have me fooled with all of those silly magic tricks. Well I've got news for you, buddy – not only am I the reigning Junior Division champion, but I'm Mr. Satan's daughter!"

"Who?"

Now Videl was genuinely upset. "What do you mean, 'who?' He's the guy who bailed you phonies out when Cell was beating you down! You owe him your life!"

Tried though he might have, Gohan couldn't fight his laughter at the thought of the musclebound Afro-head. "Oh, _that_ guy?" The smirk on his face could've rivaled Vegeta's. "Well tell him I said thanks."

Like a warrior prepared for mortal combat, Videl squared her shoulders and fiercely squeezed her fists. "I'm not gonna let you disrespect my family like that! If you're too chicken to join the tournament, then I guess I'll teach you a lesson right here instead!"

The two teens caught the attention of the crowd around them. At that point, Gohan had enjoyed the most amusement in quite a few years. More importantly, he found Videl captivating. Giving into impulse and attempting to defuse the confrontation, Gohan strode past her at lightning speed, reached the check-in desk, and signed his name.

Videl relaxed her posture, arching an inquisitive eyebrow. When Gohan turned to face her, his friendly smile brought that same weakness to her as his alluring eye trick.

"On second thought, I think I'll join. I look forward to facing you in the finals," Gohan said, extending his hand to her as she'd done earlier. "I'm Son Gohan, by the way."

Videl glared at the hand presented before her. On immediate thought, she wanted to turn her back and ignore it. Instead, she gripped it and squeezed with every ounce of strength she could muster. Less a friendly shake, and more of a vice grip. She pushed her head towards his until their noses were nearly touching. " _If_ you make the finals," she seethed through clenched teeth.

Surely, Gohan was intimidated.

Only problem was, his face didn't look so much as flustered, even as she clutched his hand so tightly. Not even a bead of sweat. Worse yet, he was still _smiling._ She withdrew her hand from his in shame and tucked it behind her back – she didn't want him to see her wringing it off. It felt like she was clutching a stone.

The fourteen-year-old Saiyan made a peace sign with his fingers and strut past her, returning to his friends. Chi-Chi nodded in approval. And thought about ideal wedding locations that would still be in good condition four years from then.

What? You can never be too prepared.

With a sly grin, Krillin extended his hand to Gohan. "Put 'er there, Gohan! I see you putting on the moves!"

"Huh?"

Yamcha joined in on the teasing. "Oh c'mon, we all saw it! Why else would you waste your time in a tournament like that?"

"Yeah, it sure looked to me like you were about to leave until she showed up," Bulma added, thoroughly committed to torturing the boy. She overheard Vegeta's snort of disgust, but she was sure he knew. Probably Saiyans being drawn to strong women or something like that.

"It's not like that…" Gohan muttered, though he couldn't argue. He stopped to glance at the girl again, only to find her looking at him and quickly turning away, folding her arms. They had a point, after all. Even before being relegated to little kids, Gohan was dreading this day. Not even the prospect of duking it out with Piccolo, Trunks, or Vegeta could inspire even a shred of battle thirst from the Saiyan boy. Yet the allure of a human girl did the trick.

The fight was a foregone conclusion, but perhaps the experience could be the first thing Gohan actually enjoyed in three years.


	2. Junior Division Pt 1

_Farce._

That was Gohan's word of the day. How could it not have been, with the preposterous festivities surrounding the tournament? His mother's complaints about it going corporate weren't sour grapes – the commercialization was evident at every turn. The entire concept of a junior division said quite enough.

At the moment, he stood in the house of the tournament grounds, awaiting the opening ceremony. The room looked less like a gathering of martial artists and more like a play pen. Sure, there were a few kids there who purported themselves to be fighters, but at the end of the day, they were kids. Most of them would likely lose a fight, get some orange slices from mom and dad, and laugh about it at school the next day. The entire division amounted to a sideshow warmup routine.

Gohan heard a loud thud go off behind him. Its culprit was the only reason he was even entertaining this absurdity to begin with. Videl had aggressively kicked the wall as practice, startling some of the younger kids. When she turned around, she saw Gohan watching her. That earned a cold glare. The fact that his only response was an amused chuckle only turned her rage up a notch. Well, that and her fondness for his smile.

What?

Given the… _unusual_ circumstances of his life, Gohan had never gotten acquainted with anybody his age, never mind girls. He never really had time to think about the opposite sex or have much reference material. Even someone like Bulma, who clearly could only be deemed unattractive by a blind man, was more like an aunt to him. Videl drew a reaction out of him that he'd never felt before, and now he was impulsively partaking in this novelty act.

The loud crash of a gong interrupted Gohan's musings. It was time for the opening festivities. The kids all stormed to the front entrance, many excitedly remarking about seeing their hero, Mr. Satan. Videl chose to stay in the back, arms folded.

As was already evident by the various product placements and stands, the tournament had greatly upscaled since the Earth's strongest martial artists had last participated. The arena was now a full-on stadium with bleachers sitting tens of thousands of cheering spectators. Mr. Satan related signs were in abundance.

In the ring stood the familiar blonde-haired announcer. His demeanor carried extra enthusiasm after he ran into old friends before the festivities went underway.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the 25th World Martial Arts Tournament is set to begin!" he roared into the mic to raucous cheers. "Before we get the main show underway, we're gonna kick things off with the Junior Division tournament!"

 _Pfft, imagine Goku, Krillin and those guys being stuck there back then,_ the announcer wisely said only to himself. Even he knew how far the fighting standards had fallen…although his paycheck certainly didn't.

"The winner of the Junior Division will take home a grand prize of ten million Zeni, while the runner up will be awarded five million!"

"Ten million?!" Chi-Chi exclaimed. She leapt out of her seat and swung her fist in the air. "Gohan, you better wipe the floor with those chumps!"

"I don't think he needs your encouragement, Chi-Chi," Bulma snickered.

Sure, Bulma had a point, but Chi-Chi needed some outlet for her excitement over the announcement. Her father's fortune wouldn't last forever, and a prize money earning of that level would definitely ease things out at home.

"Not only will the winner get the grand prize, but there's something even better in store – a fight with the hero himself, MR. SATAN!"

Fireworks shot off into the sky as the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers and chants of the alleged Cell Games victor's name. From the locker rooms of the tournament house, the man...no, the myth….no, the _legend_ himself emerged. The kids felt it, and when sound of his boots marching in arose, they were reduced to excited shrieks.

"Good luck, Kids!" he boomed before making his way to the ring, speeding past his daughter. She was trying her best not to be noticed anyway.

Mr. Satan made his powerful stride to the ring. So powerful, in fact, that when he leapt inside, he landed too hard on one foot and fell flat on his back. The back of his head bumped the surface on the whiplash for good measure.

Videl slapped her forehead, her cheeks bright red. Gohan's laughter only doubled her shame.

Beneath his jet-black shades, the tournament announcer rolled his eyes. This guy defeated Cell? Yeah, right. It was tough hearing from Krillin and the others that Goku died, but he had no doubt he was the one who really pulled it off when the cameras stopped rolling.

Nonetheless, the announcer asked if Satan was okay as he writhed around the marble surface in agony. The crowd's shift from uproarious yelling to pin-drop silence was too much for the showman to bear, so he pulled himself together and leaped to his feet.

"Um…that was just a joke! Haha, ain't I great?!"

For about two seconds, the fans exchanged perplexed glances among themselves before reverting to wild cheers. A certain band of fighters weren't so amused.

Piccolo audibly groaned. The tournament had fallen from a contest of champions to a vehicle for the ego of the World's Greatest Narcissist. Goku probably wouldn't have cared even a little bit, but he would've liked to see him knock him off his perch all the same.

The Satan sideshow had dampened every aspect of the tournament. The absence of a preliminary round caught Krillin by surprise; in its place was a punch-monitor that measured the force of every competitor's fists. As the previous champion, Mr. Satan automatically qualified and from there, the top fifteen punches would join him. It was an absurdity, to say the least. Mr. Satan delivered his punch to set the bar, though he sadly left before he could witness Krillin, Yamcha, Piccolo and Trunks annihilate his score. Or when Vegeta, ever the people-person, destroyed the entire machine in one punch.

The only thing keeping Vegeta from flying down to the ring and blowing the buffoon away was the prospect of a fight with Trunks. Gohan's shunting to the junior division was a major disappointment, but there was still an opportunity for Vegeta to gauge if his son kept up with his training. Granted, it wouldn't go well for Vegeta if Trunks had, considering he'd replaced training with aimless brooding.

"So, Mr. Satan, since you last appeared in this ring, a lot has happened," the announcer began. "A terrible monster named Cell threatened the entire human race, yet you were the warrior brave enough, and strong enough, to put him to an end!"

Mr. Satan soaked up the noise of the crowd before snatching the mic from his hands. "Yeah, lemme tell ya somethin' Blonde Dude! I took down the big, stinky green monster in front of the billions of screaming Satanists, brother!"

The global icon/national treasure brazenly stepped and pointed his finger at wherever he was certain the hard camera was facing. "And ya know somethin', Blonde Dude? What I did to Cell will pale in comparison to what I'll do to any challenger who dares step forward to knock me off the throne!"

" **MI-STER SA-TAN! MI-STER SA-TAN! MI-STER SA-TAN!"**

"Blonde Dude" wrestled the microphone away from Mr. Satan. "Within the tournament rules of course. No killing allowed, after all!"

As Mr. Satan stopped to pose at every corner of the ring, the announcer cleared his throat. "So, Mr. Satan, what do you think of your forthcoming match with whatever young martial artist comes out on top of the junior division?"

Mr. Satan quickly strode back to the announcer. "Well I hope they go easy on me!" he whined, ever the showman. "Not that there's any mystery of who that'll be, of course – we all know my daughter Videl's got this one in the bag!"

"Ugh, seriously?" Videl groaned from the back. Gohan curiously watched her from the corner of her eye. During the sign-ups, she was boastful and proudly declared herself as his daughter, yet now here she was regarding his aspects with scorn. It certainly seemed like Gohan wasn't the only one trying to escape their father's shadow.

"Oh, won't that be great?! The father-daughter showdown of the century!" the announcer declared. "Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Satan! In a few moments, the Junior Division will begin while the champ retires to his lounge!" Mr. Satan marched back to the tournament house, flashing a peace sign to the fans. He headed straight for the back when he made it inside, giving Videl a pat on the shoulder as he did. Gohan shrugged, as it seemed the showboat hadn't noticed him yet.

 _Videl –_ that name raised an eyebrow from Future Trunks _._ He could've sworn he'd heard it before.

"Thirty-two kids have shown up hoping to be declared the Junior Division champion! The rules are the same as the adults – you lose if you give up, fall out of bounds, fail to get up from a count of ten, or are knocked out cold! Now let's get on with the show!"

* * *

The show was every bit the joke Gohan and the others expected. Most of the "fights" consisted of children with minimal athletic or combat skills attempting to brawl, typically ending with one, sometimes both, of them crying. While the fights involving the older kids nearly breached the territory of competence, they were still snooze fests. The audience laughed, sure, but anybody with fighting spirit waited impatiently for the sideshow to end.

Gohan could hardly be labeled a proud fighter, but even he was ashamed on behalf of martial artists just for watching, let alone participating. As the lengthy first round trudged along, the half-Saiyan teetered on the edge of sleep until the announcement came.

"Now here's a match I've been looking forward to – Parsley, age eleven, versus Son Gohan, age fourteen!"

Gohan wasn't the only one alerted by the announcements. As he approached the ring, Videl leaped to the entrance to get an up-close look.

"Son Gohan is the son of Goku, one of the most prolific fighters in the history of the World Martial Arts Tournament and the last champion before its hiatus!" the announcer explained. "Unfortunately, the world-class fighter is no longer with us, but his son looks to follow in his footsteps."

Gohan winced at the announcer's words, both for their unpleasant reminder and the truth behind the latter statement.

Gohan stood across the ring from his opponent, Parsley. He was a frail kid, wearing a white t-shirt and blue shorts about two or three sizes too big. He trembled in Gohan's presence; the teenager was far more muscular than the average kid. His demeanor possessed an aloof, withdrawn self-assurance.

"BEGIN!"

Gohan simply stood, arms folded. The reality of this junior division tournament was as apparent as ever, the answers to his problems doomed to continue eluding him. Parsley's quivering raged on before he swallowed heavily in his throat. Since Gohan seemed intent on waiting, he figured he ought to make the first move. He charged…

…and was immediately blown out of the ring by some invisible force.

The crowd fell silent. Spectator after spectator merely offered confused blinks and stares amongst themselves. It wasn't even windy out…

"Well…you saw it, folks! Son Gohan wins by ringout!" The announcer wasn't sure what to make of it, but Gohan's father and that whole lot of fighters had done far crazier things in the ring as it was.

Videl's thoughts scattered all over. She didn't even see Gohan move at all – one second, he furrowed his brows; the next, the kid was spiraling away to the grass. There was no gust of wind or anything else of the sort. After scanning the ring, she couldn't find any devices nearby that would indicate any foul play at hand.

It appeared Gohan had more going for him than she realized.

Once Parsley realized what just happened to him, he started whimpering. This was Gohan's least favorite part about battle, and exactly why he'd dreaded it since his actions with Cell. Somebody getting hurt was an inevitability even in a spar, but that didn't make the suffering of a weaker individual feel any less awful. It was why he opted for a simple Kiai.

Gohan stepped to the edge of the ring and extended his hand to the kid. "Hey, no need to cry. You're just inexperienced, that's all."

Parsley accepted Gohan's hand and was lifted up from the grass. "Th-Thanks."

"No sweat!" Gohan said with a friendly smile.

"Isn't it great, folks?! Nothing better than sportsmanship and graceful victory! Give it up again for Gohan! He's every bit the man his father was!"

The crowd broke its silence and cheered, many moved by Gohan kindness.

Including Videl.

"H-He's…nice," she mumbled to herself before frantically shaking her head and switching gears.

Gohan helped Parsley back inside. His smile took on just the slightest hint of arrogance when he spotted Videl lingering in the doorway.

"That wasn't a trick, by the way."

Whatever mystified admiration present in Videl's expression was snuffed out by a scowl. "It might not have been obvious but I'm sure you were up to something. You're a-" In her rant, she realized Gohan was walking clean past her without an acknowledgment of her scathing words. "Hey, are you even listening?!"

Gohan swung back around. "Of course! Good luck in your fight."

Videl slightly slumped her shoulders. With every interaction, her hostility towards Gohan felt pettier and pettier.

"And finally, to conclude the first round, Neku, age thirteen, takes on the reigning Junior Division champ herself, the fourteen-year-old Videl!"

Refraining from any snarky comments toward Gohan, Videl took a deep breath stepped to the ring. Her opponent was muscular for his age, blond, and judging from his perpetual frown and tattered black gi, took himself very seriously. Exactly the type of guy Videl would enjoy defeating.

Gohan folded his arms, a studious look falling into his eyes. Not that he needed to scout, but he wanted to see if was anything like the clown her father was. That would determine the extent of his interest in continuing the festivities.

Trunks observed the pig-tailed fighter as she stood in the ring. The name rang a bell, sure, but he'd never seen the girl before in his life. Perhaps traveling between timelines so freely screwed up his memory.

As the crowd's anticipation rose, the two young fighters positioned themselves into fighting stances.

"You're not special just because you're Mr. Satan's daughter. When I'm done with you, you'll just be a weak legacy kid like the rest of them," Neku brashly remarked. "Maybe try modeling, that's more your speed."

"Oh, _jeez."_ Videl snickered. It wasn't the first time she was met with that attitude, and she doubted it would be the last.

"BEGIN!"

Gohan took notice of Videl's stance. It was defensive – something he could never mistake considering what most of his training under Piccolo consisted of. She probably planned on being attacked first.

When Neku dove in for a kick, Videl executed a full flip over him and swept his legs from behind him. Just as Gohan suspected. When she swiftly rose up and drilled a knee straight into the teenage male's spine, Gohan was impressed. Sloppy execution by his standards, granted, as she nearly slipped as she gathered her leg, but nevertheless a competent, decisive move. Neku stumbled to the floor, but quickly rose back up, embarrassed. He sent a flurry of punches Videl's way, but she defended them expertly, evading and blocking. Gohan smiled, impressed by the display.

Videl wasn't a court jester like her father. She could back up the bravado.

Of course, just as Gohan gave her credit, she got too hasty attempting a punch and met a leg to her ribs for her efforts. Impressively, she recovered with a cartwheel and within seconds she smashed her forearm into the young chauvinist's nose. _She's got him now_ , Gohan said to himself.

Almost as if she'd overheard Gohan's thoughts, Videl sensed victory too. She went in for kill, unloading on Neku with a storm of punches that could almost be mistaken for one of Vegeta's mad rushes, skillfully finishing it off with a spinning kick to the face with her right leg, followed up with a staggering kick to the jaw with the left. They lifted the fighting game knockoff dozens of feet in the air. It was over even before he crashed face-first into the ground.

"Oh man!" The announcer cheered. "Don't be fooled, guys – she may look like a regular teenage girl, but Videl is as ferocious as her father! No need to count for this one, Neku's out like a lamp! Videl wins!"

Sporting a victorious smirk, Videl folded her arms and glared down on the fallen opponent. "Maybe try playing video games – that's more your speed!"

Videl marched back to the tournament house. There was a confident aura in her stride, one that left Gohan in the mesmerized, trance-like daze again.

In fact, it took a few seconds for him to register when she got right in his face. Which just made it worse, naturally. He grew fixated on the reflection of himself that he saw in her eyes.

"Well?!"

Gohan blinked a few seconds and returned to normal. "What…?"

"Don't act like you aren't impressed," Videl growled. "Pretty tough, right?!"

Gohan's eyes loosened as he smiled, replying, "Yeah, you're pretty adept for your skill level."

Videl's eyes burst to the size of balloons. If she was almost blowing smoke out of her nose the last time Gohan patronized her, now she might as well have breathed fire.

" _Excuse_ me?" Videl sneered, bearing almost all 32 of her teeth at the half-Saiyan.

Yet again, Gohan responded with a shrug. "No, really, I mean it. This whole division's a joke but you actually bring some skill."

Just slightly, Videl calmed down. She could tell by Gohan's expression that he _wasn't_ just trying to get on her nerves, the earlier sharpness nonexistent. Instead, there was the same generosity he'd shown to the boy he defeated moments earlier. In fact, she'd never seen a look from most people quite as genuine.

"Whatever," she huffed, closing her eyes to reign in her thoughts. "Don't try getting on my good side – I know what 'for my level' means. You still think you're better, don't you?"

"Well, yeah," Gohan flatly replied. He might as well have explained the answer of 1+1.

Videl tossed her growing fondness towards Gohan aside, shooting him with a glare that would have made a lesser fighter squirm. The young champion brushed past him and subtly shoved her shoulder into his for good measure. She stared at the wall with determined eyes.

While Videl stirred into a corner, Gohan continued observing her. The anger within her clearly ran deeper than competitive fire.

* * *

The following two rounds were more of the same as far as Gohan and Videl were concerned. Neither of Gohan's opponents laid a finger on him, as he relied on the same Kiai technique for an instant victory. It was the easiest way for Gohan to get things over with and meet Videl in the finals, plus he didn't have to inflict any pain.

Whereas Gohan's cruise to the finals was static, Videl's fights escalated in intensity. At the very least, there were a couple of competent fighters in the elder age bracket of the division. Hell, the semi-final matchup nearly went awry for Videl, her overconfidence in her abilities threatening to end her run.

She'd executed the same kick combo that defeated Neku and turned her back, assuming the fight finished. Her assumption was proven wrong when the spry, wiry opponent she'd been matched up with sprung up from the ring's surface and drove his elbow into the back of her neck. A pain jolted throughout her body like she'd never felt in her life, dropping her to the marble surface like a stone.

 _Arrogance screwing you over in the end,_ Gohan thought as he watched the fight. Oh, how he could relate.

Her opponent didn't want to try his chances and wait for a ten-count, so he tried kicking her seized body out of the ring. Unfortunately for him, that bit of contact was the alert she needed to recover, clinging to the edge of the ring after being mere inches from falling out. In a flash, she smashed the back of her skull against his, rolled behind him, and kicked him out of the ring.

The first thing Videl looked for following the ring out and victory was Gohan. He smiled and nodded approvingly. She looked away with the smallest hint of red in her cheeks.

"Spectacular! The winner by ring out: Videl! And with that, the finals of the Junior Division are set! Before the matchup goes away, there will be a ten-minute intermission."

Videl wiped the sweat from her forehead and exited the ring. As she walked, she chanced a glance at her defeated opponent as he sulked on the grass. Without turning her head, she looked at Gohan out of the corner of her eye.

When her opponent finally decided to look up after cursing his luck, the first thing he saw was a gloved hand extended to his face. Videl looked down with a warm smile.

"You've got nothing to feel bad about, dude, you almost got me there," Videl encouraged. The boy gladly took her hand and let her help him back up.

"Th-Thanks."

Videl nodded and made her way inside. That last hit had done a number on her, so she retreated to one of the locker rooms and took a much a much-needed drink of water. The hydration had no impact on her sweats, however. Calling Videl a confident fighter was an understatement - her assurance in her abilities bored on cocky. And yet, ever since meeting Gohan, that confidence was slipping. It was a small wonder she acted out towards him.

Videl may have been the daughter of fighting royalty, but she was quickly learning the vastness of the martial arts world. Gohan wasn't just a gifted kid, he was a kid brave enough to challenge a hideous monster like Cell. She'd never seen what happened after the cameras cut off, but from what she saw, he had fared far better than her father had.

Her heart skipped a beat when a thought invaded her brain. But just as quickly as it arose, she dismissed it. What her father stressed to her and the audience throughout the fight was true, she reasoned, and Gohan's trickery paled in comparison to the might running through her veins.

Right?

Then again…she was glued to the screen during that battle. She recalled the moment where Gohan snapped. That cold stare in his green eyes had given her a chill even through the TV screen; a far cry from the generous, if somber boy she'd be met today. The boy who alternated from daydreaming in her presence to smiling and complimenting her.

There was a moment after the cameras cut off during that fight and left the viewers with nothing but audio that had always struck her –

" _That little boy is pummeling Cell!"_

Meanwhile, her father had gotten knocked out with a whimper. He didn't even land a hit.

Suddenly, Videl tossed her water bottle at a locker and stood tall.

"Bullshit," she said aloud before storming into the hallway. There was no point in mulling over a three-year-old battle her father won when there was a tournament to win.

"And here we go! You couldn't script a better conclusion for the Junior Division this year! The son of the previous champion fights the daughter of the reigning champion!"

Chi-Chi and Goten stood up in the crowd, cheering Gohan on. "Go easy on her, Gohan! You don't want her looks going bad!"

"Are you kidding, me, Chi-Chi?!" Bulma scoffed with a bit of a chuckle.

"Hey now, let's not forget how Gohan ended up in this world," Chi-Chi contested, arms folded.

Bulma paused. She couldn't debate that one.

Whereas Gohan approached the ring at ease, Videl had an edge in her stride. She stared straight ahead, her head rigidly facing forward, her eyebrows arched fiercely. The crowd being overwhelmingly in her favor only intensified the pressure she put on herself.

"Both of these fighters are fourteen years old and good enough to compete with the adults! While Videl has scratched and clawed her way to the finals, Gohan has yet to even lift a finger yet has dominated! His nickname must be 'Mr. Untouchable,' because all of his fights have ended the second the gong's gone off!"

As the pair of teens entered the ring, the announcer continued, "Will Gohan's silent rampage continue, or will he meet his match in the daughter of the world's hero?!"

"The rest of these idiots might not know that answer, but we sure do," Krillin sighed. "Anybody wanna get a head start on the food while this wraps up?" While Yamcha was ready to join him, Piccolo, Vegeta and Trunks stood still. Krillin (correctly) assumed that Vegeta just wanted to see the subsequent fight with Mr. Satan, while Trunks wanted to support Gohan regardless. Piccolo seemed to take a greater interest, however.

 _How will you finish this one, Gohan?_ Piccolo asked himself.

Figuring there was no use swaying them, Krillin stayed put. Mr. Satan horror was prime-time-worthy entertainment, anyway.

The enigmatic teenage boy and the brash teenage girl stood across from each other as a bass drum sounded off. Videl's thoughts focused solely on strategy, while Gohan contemplated what had brought him along this strange, brief foray. That pair of eyes that reminded him of the waterfalls that flowed through his homeland had a greater effect on him than meditation.

"BEGIN!"

While Videl crouched into her defensive fighting stance, Gohan stood still. Videl braced herself for whatever that force was that bested his other opponents, but nothing came from him. Hell, maybe he already tried it and it didn't work on her. Then again, if that were the case, he would have actually looked distressed instead of withdrawn and pensive.

It was completely innocuous and almost certainly unintentional, but Gohan did something that set Videl's temper off – he blinked. Taking it as a dismissal of her ability, she threw away her typical defensive strategy and went on the attack. She lunged at him, ready to unleash all of the confused frustration and aggression she felt towards him in one punch, but by the time she reached him, he was gone.

It was just like when he went to sign up for the tournament earlier in the day. He didn't simply move out of the way really fast, he _vanished._

"Where-"

"Here."

His voice was coming from her left. She turned left….

…and he wasn't there.

"Oh, whoops. I'm actually over here," Gohan directed. This time, he was to her right. A turn to the right, and not a Gohan in sight.

"Just looking with your eyes isn't gonna get you anywhere," Gohan said from behind her.

When Videl turned around this time, he was actually where his voice stood. The smile on his face infuriated her. If it were one of sly arrogance, she would've just been a little bit mad, but it was the same friendly one he'd kept giving her throughout the day.

"I don't need your advice!" she shrieked, her fist surging towards Gohan's face. It was punch that would've annihilated any fighter's face if it landed. The only problem was, this was Gohan she was fighting, which meant he was out of sight milliseconds before it could.

"Maybe not, but it might make you better."

Wait a second.

Was he in front of her again?!

Videl had flashbacks to her toddler days when her dad would mess around with her, engaging in tricks to annoy her and make her laugh. But she sure as hell wasn't laughing at the spiky haired teenager that patronized her now. Fed up, she unleashed a ferocious scream and threw every punch and kick she could maneuver as fast as her body allowed. Yet not a single one could make contact with Gohan. He evaded every single spinning kick, right hook, uppercut, and backhand from the prodigious fighter with the same stoic expression.

"You're just fighting restlessly, you can't do anything if you're just acting without a plan!" Now he was talking while he dodged and didn't sound the least bit stressed doing it.

It was at _that_ moment that Videl threw everything away and simply lunged at Gohan head first. Yet again, he jumped out of the way and subtly utilized a burst of his ki to push her backwards, preventing an ugly face-first tumble. If she noticed it, she didn't show it.

"This is stunning! Videl's been a dominant fighter in her two forays in this tournament, but against Gohan she looks helpless!" Okay, stunning was a lie from the announcer. If Goku was any indication, it was obvious that his son was completely out of her league.

Videl staggered back, glaring peevishly at Gohan. "Will you cut out these stupid _tricks_?!"

Gohan's calm demeanor cracked into laughter. "Man, you and your dad are a broken record! You really think those are tricks?"

"What else could they be?!" Videl sneered.

Gohan mockingly emptied his pockets, "Well, sorry, but I don't have any devices on me!"

 _Got you!_ Videl thought to herself; his cockiness had clearly given her an opening. Jumping forward, she wildly swung her leg at Gohan. Only, he smoothly tilted his body to the side and allowed her to stumble, all while flipping his wristbands inside-out.

"Nothing underneath these, either."

This time, Videl didn't need Gohan's assistance to keep herself from stumbling, smoothly landing on her feet. But her graceful movements couldn't hide her flustered behavior.

"if I could just hit you…!" she spat through clenched teeth.

"Well, you could try," Gohan offered.

Though Videl didn't quite grasp what Gohan implied, she tried her chances and lunged forward with another punch. This time, however, it finally happened: her fist collided with his jaw, mercifully connecting after a long, humiliating struggle. It was immensely satisfying.

As well as incredibly painful.

Gohan's face? It hadn't moved an inch. The bones in Videl's knuckles, on the other hand, felt like they'd twisted in about seven different directions. Videl urgently clutched her right hand as a brief shriek escaped from her mouth. It probably damaged Gohan's eardrums more than her fist could do to his jaw.

"Ouch! Just when it looked like Videl had finally gotten the best of Gohan, she wound up hurting herself instead."

Gohan's smile was bad enough, but to pile on top of that, laughter arose from the spectators. Videl stopped whimpering about her wrist and looked around. She could see the smiles, the snorts, the chuckles. Those should have been reserved for the shameful fights of the lower rounds between the grade school children, not the reigning champion and daughter of Mr. Satan.

Videl could let herself be called a lot of things, but a comedy act was the last thing on that list. Yet Gohan reduced her to one and seemed to take great amusement in it. Even as she swore that he was up to trickery, the reality made itself painfully obvious in a very literal fashion.

Finally, Videl stopped clutching her wrist ducked into her defensive fight stance. Gohan made no attempt to match it at all, and while he wasn't wearing the smile that drove her mad, she saw his lack of gesture as insult enough. She sunk her arms and stood still.

"Why are you here?"

The half-Saiyan frowned. The look on Videl's face was neither the tantalizingly confident smirk nor the competitive, aggressive glare. Instead, she looked like she already lost, sinking her head in resentment.

"I can keep trying to punch you. I can keep calling everything a trick. But I get it – you're stronger than me," Videl's voice was shaky, almost a whisper. "You're… _a lot_ stronger than me. What is it, huh? Why are you wasting your time with this shit?"

Videl's questions pierced through Gohan's mind, leaving him with his mouth wordlessly hung open. The announcer guy attempted to listen close enough to relay the subject to the crowd, but he couldn't pick much up.

Anger filled Videl's eyes as she looked straight ahead at Gohan. "Well, what is it?! Do you have an axe to grind over the Cell Games?!"

For the first time all day, Gohan's head sunk, his eyes only focused on the ground. "I…I don't know."

Videl was stunned by Gohan's sullen answer, but also leaned closer with intrigue. It was just a few moments, but Gohan's fingers twitched at his sides before balling up into fists.

"To be honest, I really don't like fighting," Gohan confessed.

Videl's sunken eyes arose to comical proportions. "What do you mean, you don't like fighting?! You're better at it than…" she let her words die, as she didn't want to make or accept the admission of him towering above even her father.

"Yeah, I know. I'm good. _Really_ good. But I've never really had much of a choice," Gohan answered, not looking up for even a second. "All of my life, it's pretty much been fight or let my friends die. I don't want to lose my friends or my family, but I don't want to hurt anyone, either."

This sorrowful look on Gohan was unnerving Videl. "What are you talking about? I mean, you were crushing those weird little blue Cells, and –"

"What?!" Gohan cut off, his voice strained. " _Th-That_ was on TV, too?" Videl nodded. She almost wanted to look away as Gohan's shudders rose.

"Yeah, everything cut off after, but…that's what I saw," Videl answered, her voice much softer than what Gohan was used to hearing from her.

"That _thing_ you saw there wasn't me," Gohan said, contempt clouding his voice. "I forgot who I was. I became bloodthirsty and arrogant, and the only person who paid for it was my father."

"Did he…?"

"…Yeah."

Videl felt ashamed of herself. It was nothing like the humiliation of getting toyed with; that was purely a matter of ego. More than ever, her hostility towards Gohan appeared hopelessly immature.

"Fighting was my dad's thing. He lived for it, and he wouldn't have died any other way." A sad smile formed on Gohan's lips. "My dad loved these tournaments, so I guess I was hoping this would help me understand him more and see what makes life-or-death battles so exciting for him. But then the Junior Division happened."

Neither Videl nor Gohan noticed the jeers from fans and requests from the announcer to get the fight back underway. This conversation was far more important.

Gohan finally lifted his eyes from the ground and looked at Videl. "I was ready to leave but…I dunno," he began with an uneasy shrug. "You showed up. You were really pretty and then you seemed really set on challenging me. I thought it was interesting."

For about five seconds, Videl was rendered a rapidly blinking mess. "Uh…can you repeat that whole sentence?"

Gohan was perplexed by the question. At least, until he replayed said sentence in his head, at which point his features went dumbstruck with a dash of pink cheeks on top. "…You seemed set on challenging me and that was interesting?"

"The first part!"

"Huh?"

"You know what? Forget it," Videl said with a somewhat embarrassed grin. "We both know what you said. Whatever."

Gohan looked for Trunks in the stands. _Mind lending me your time machine?_

"And hey, I'm sorry about your dad. My mom passed away a few years ago, so I know the feeling," Videl said, to Gohan's surprise. But with a rekindled fire, she positioned into a fighting stance. And unlike before, this one was on the offensive. "But I'm not here to help you find yourself – I'm here to win!"

Gohan's shame over his gaffe faded as he smirked. "I thought you said I was too strong."

"…And? You're not the first tough guy I've ever fought, and you won't be the last!" Videl proclaimed, her eyes intensifying as she smirked.

"Alright! It looked like the two stopped to chat – they _are_ teenagers after all, so maybe they just really wanted to set up a date after the tournament – " The announcer was sharply cut off with a demand to shut up by both teens. "Forgive me, just a little humor. But now the fight is back underway!"

Just seconds after she made her charge at Gohan, Videl skidded on the floor to pause. "Wait!"

Many in the audience groaned. Gohan sighed. "What now?"

"That laser blast stuff you guys were doing back in the Cell Games – _that's_ definitely an illusion or something, right?"

"You mean this?" Gohan produced a radiating blue orb of Ki from his palm, to the stunned gasps of Videl and 99% of the audience.

"What?! How?!" Videl stammered. She reached her finger out to touch it, but Gohan quickly evaporated it.

"Don't touch it. It can hurt you," Gohan advised before reforming it. "But nah, it's not a trick. It's just Ki. Everybody has it."

"Well, show me how to do it." Now Videl was the one in a trance. Her eyes were fixated on Gohan's orb of Ki.

"I thought you got mad when I was giving you pointers before," Gohan teased.

"Just do it!" Videl demanded.

"Well, I mean, I guess…" Gohan attempted gathering his thoughts. He never had to think about the science of what he did. He could just do it. Sure, Goku attempted explaining it to him once, but he was barely even three years old at the time. "Just, well, clear your mind. It's the energy of your spirit flowing throughout your body. It's like your center, sort of. You've gotta focus on that and think of nothing."

All of this nonsense about spirits and 'Ki' threw Videl's mind through her loop, but she wanted to learn. Not just to better herself, either; whether she cared to admit it or not, Gohan had a way of drawing her to him.

Videl shut her eyes and tried to do as Gohan instructed, searching out the Ki within her. She took a few deep breaths and lifted her palms. As she tried to focus, however, she showed visible signs of straining herself, which Gohan was quick to correct.

"You're…thinking…too much," Gohan's words slowly trailed off as realization hit him. That was certainly the source of his own anguish, wasn't it? For someone who could use his Ki as easily as breathing he sure seemed incapable of emptying his head.

Heeding Gohan's words, Videl took a deep breath, her expression calming down. Seconds later, it happened –

"Holy shit!" Videl shrieked at small orb of light emitting from her palms. "I did it!"

To her disappointment, it only took a few seconds to disappear. Nonetheless, the audience was astounded, as was Videl. Many were rethinking Mr. Satan's talk about 'tricks' back in the Cell Games.

Not that anyone beside Piccolo could actually hear what was going on, but Gohan's group of family and friends (sans Vegeta) were pleased to see what was happening in the ring. Gohan being so happy and engaged was a sight they hadn't seen since Goku was still alive.

Trunks in particular liked what he saw. No matter the timeline, Gohan had a gift for teaching.

"See? You did it," Gohan encouraged.

Videl had no idea what to make of it. Her father dismissed such feats as magic tricks, and yet here she was, forming energy blasts on her own. Was her father's dismissal his own denial, too? But besides that, if Gohan could do it, Cell could do it, and Mr. Satan _couldn't_ , then what did that mean?

Videl preferred to stop her thoughts there.

"I don't really know what that was, but thanks. For real. But just because you can do it, doesn't mean I'm backing down!"

Immediately after speaking, Videl sprinted at Gohan. He expected her to attack, but she performed a roll on the floor to maneuver herself behind him instead. She hopped up and tapped Gohan on the shoulder opposite of where she was actually standing.

Obviously, Gohan wasn't going to fall for such an amateurish trick. In fact, Videl counted on it, and more importantly, she was counting on his response being of the clever variety.

See, if Gohan were an idiot, he would have turned to his left, expecting Videl to be there. But he was too smart and aware to do that, so he would correctly guess that she was actually to his right, but also expected an attack in store for him if he turned right, since he was facing a competent fighter who had probably seen similar strategies. So to thwart her plan, he "fell for it" and turned left.

Just as Videl planned!

When Gohan spun around to his left, not even he could evade the kick that smooshed his nose. And unlike the punch from her earlier, this one actually stung, stumbling him backwards. Though Gohan may have possessed hundreds of thousands as much power as Videl, the sole of a combat boot to the nose was still the sole of a combat boot to the nose.

Vegeta and Piccolo openly expressed their disgust.

"Unbelievable! Videl has become the first fighter to actually hurt Gohan!"

The pig-tailed-daughter-of-a-hero wasn't finished yet, either, following it up with an elbow to the offending nose. The bone connected point blank with his nostrils, too: a spot where even a Saiyan was sensitive. A stinging sensation surged through his nasal bone, making it hard to breathe. Somehow, Videl seemingly had him on the ropes.

By the time she tried to follow up with a punch, however, Gohan regained his bearings and grabbed her fist. He swung her over his shoulders and flung her away, but controlled his strength enough that she only fell back less than a dozen feet and tumbled to the floor.

Gohan let an irritated grunt escape while he brushed his nose off. The Son boy felt something he hadn't felt in a long time – insult to his pride. The presence of such an emotion struck Gohan for a very good reason -

He was actually enjoying this fight.


	3. Junior Division Pt. 2

Mr. Satan reclined in his seat, lounging inside his special room on the Tournament combine's top floor. Such were the perks of being the champion and global celebrity. There was a large window set up to give him a wide view of the tournament, but Mr. Satan had his back turned to it, preferring to read a magazine instead. While he could have been watching his daughter's wade through the Junior Division, he saw little point – the whole thing was mostly entertainment. Videl was already far ahead of those other kids thanks to his training anyway. The end result was a formality…

A few knocks on his door broke up the solitude. Mr. Satan grunted, but answered. "Come in!"

One of the tournament officials opened the door. He was a thin man, draped in an orange robe. His entrance prompted one of the champ's trademark grins. "Lemme guess: it's time for me to fight Videl, huh?"

"Um, not quite," the official grimaced. "Videl has reached the championship round, yes, but the fight's still ongoing. And well, sir…"

"What is it?" Mr. Satan harshly interrupted. "Is she dragging the fight out to have fun again?! Dammit, I told her about that!" He sprung up from his chair. Those damn teenagers just never wanted to listen, did they?

The official smiled wearily, "Well, not exactly…she's actually losing."

Mr. Satan's mood calmed considerably. The champ breathed a sigh of relief and wiped off his forehead, much to the official's confusion. "Oh, phew, I thought it was something serious. You just came here to pull a prank on me! Nice one, I like your style."

"No, sir, I'm quite serious. This other fighter's on a completely different level. He's pretty much toying with her!"

Despite the solemnity of the official's demeanor, Mr. Satan burst out laughing. "Yeah, right! You and me both know good and damn well that it's the other way around. My daughter ain't just the strongest teenager around. On this whole planet she's second only to yours truly!"

Mr. Satan spun around and cranked the spectator's window open, peering his head out to view the action closely. "Now lemme get a look at this chump she's fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-"

The typically headstrong martial arts showman's words died as his jaw sunk low, startling the official. "Um, sir, are you okay?"

Mr. Satan let his eyes linger on the ring for a few more seconds before he shook his head and treaded back inside the room. He was a stammering, hysterical mess.

"Uh, yeah, it's just somethin' minor," he stuttered. "Y'see, when Cell knocked me into that cliff, I, uh, sustained a severe uh...concussion, the effects of which I still feel to this day! E-Every now and then my brain goes kaput, ya know?!" He was nodding very vigorously.

"Oh my, I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Satan," the official expressed. "It must be difficult to live with that every day."

"Well, y'know, it wouldn't be a big battle without, uh, p-permanent damage, right?!" Satan's forehead was drenched in sweat.

The official smiled, a light bulb going off in his head. "Great material to use in the biopic that's in production, though!"

Mr. Satan ignored his suggestion, his mind focused on something far more important. It was unmistakable. Such an odd, spiky, unkempt hairstyle was easy to identify. And to top it off, he was wearing the same orange and blue uniform his father wore that day just to doubly confirm it.

"Why me?!"

"Um, sir?"

He donned another phony smile. "Oh, just c-cursing Cell for my brain trauma! And that's all!"

It was him – the delivery boy from the Cell Games. A little bit taller, sure, but he could never forget the face. Of all of the damn tournaments, why did he have to show up _here_? This was supposed to be Satan's show, where he was the undisputed best in the world and nobody was any wiser!

At the moment, the two teenagers were talking, and then it happened – he summoned one of those blue orbs of light! Though Mr. Satan may have claimed as much - first to rationalize his own shock and then to cover his tracks - he understood very well that it was no trick. He stormed back over to the window.

"DELIVERY DUDE, YOU'RE TAKING IT TOO FAR, DON'T HIT MY BABY WITH ONE OF THOSE-whaaaaaaa-"

Wait…Videl was doing it now, too?! Was she a weird mutant like those guys and never told him?! He nearly stumbled to the floor. _I'm ruined! If he taught her how to do it, everyone's gonna know they aren't tricks!_

"Hey, uh, guy, can you get me some water?!" Mr. Satan pleaded. The official nodded affirmatively and left the room. He didn't even want to watch anymore; he would rather just wait and dread the meeting that would follow.

* * *

Gohan cursed himself for overthinking and falling for Videl's trick. Nonetheless, he had to give her credit – it was a clever way of maneuvering around her disadvantage. Not only that, but her two attacks genuinely hurt. If that was indicative of anything, she was the strongest "normal" human on the planet. Even better than her father, he assumed.

With the right training, she could grow to rival any of his human comrades.

Videl stumbled back to her feet, rubbing her left hip as she did. It was obvious to her that Gohan went light on the swing, but that didn't stop her from feeling like she'd been in a car accident. Yet she smirked to hide her pain.

"Looks like somebody's upset, huh?" Videl taunted.

"Eh, maybe a little bit, but this is actually fun," Gohan replied.

Videl's smile softened. _Good_ , she said in her mind. But enough with the sentiment – she had a fight to win. If the success of her last attack showed anything, it meant she would have to keep being creative and play Gohan's brilliance against himself.

She sprinted straight at Gohan, who again was unbothered. As usual, he expected her to go for a strike and prepared himself to evade it at speeds invisible to the eye, but Videl instead performed a handspring to flip in the air and seat herself…right on Gohan's shoulders! Though it wasn't her plan at all, the teenage half-Saiyan lost all focus from what was directly in his face, allowing her to tighten her legs around Gohan's head and flip him over!

Gohan sprung his hands on the ground to break his landing, but as soon as he was vertical there was Videl again, flailing an elbow in his face. He caught it with his left hand rather easily, and blocked a kick with his other. The two Juniors were at a standstill.

"Heh, I guess that 'pretty' comment gave you another strategy," Gohan snickered.

"Huh?" Videl was genuinely confused, until she got an extra second to think about it…at which point she snarled while her cheeks flushed bright red. "Oh, are you kidding me?!"

"Sorry," Gohan chuckled, mentally cursing Master Roshi.

As Gohan laughed, Videl lunged forward and slammed her skull into Gohan's. Which was quite a bad move on her part. Just like the punch that had gone awry earlier, Videl got the worst of the exchange. It felt like she'd headbutted a brick wall. In a daze, she stumbled to the floor.

"Yet again, Gohan's body is so fortified that any attempts from Videl to attack bring new meaning to the phrase, 'this'll hurt me far more than it hurts you!' I'll begin the count!"

Videl managed to get up at a count of three, but the buzz that wouldn't stop ringing in her ear made her rather lay down for the full count. It seemed like unless Gohan was completely off guard, even landing an attack with anything but her feet would just go horribly for her. By every measure, this fight was hopeless.

But quitting wasn't in Videl's DNA. All her circumstances meant was the need for an unconventional approach.

"Hit me," Videl demanded.

Gohan's eyes quickly expanded. "Um…what?"

With the smirk that frequently sent Gohan into dazes, she tapped her jaw. "I'm not speaking a different language, Gohan. I said hit me."

"But…"

"'But' what? We're fighting. You can't win by dodging all day, so hit me."

Gohan didn't answer, instead raising an inquisitive eyebrow. There didn't appear to be any strategy tucked under her sleeve.

"Oh, c'mon! Lemme guess: you think I'll get hurt?" Videl snorted with a hint of disgust. As soon as Gohan opened his mouth to answer, she cut him off. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, we just got through this five minutes ago; you don't like hurting people. Well guess what – we're _fighting_. Somebody's gonna get hurt eventually. Like, that's _literally_ the goal."

Gohan lowered his head in embarrassment. It wasn't her intention, but it sure felt like she was delivering an assessment of his mental state.

"So, I ask again: why are you fighting? Because if you're not gonna use your shockwave Ki thingy for an insta-win, you're wasting your time, and mine," Videl lectured, her eyes red-hot. "I'm not a friggin' charity case, so _hit me!"_

The super-powered half-Saiyan sighed. He certainly couldn't argue with the logic. So, after a deep breath, he dashed in her direction. Videl wasn't just going to stand still and let him do it, however – she charged at him too. She flung the first punch, but Gohan shifted to the side to get out of the way, and then he did it. While he held back by an exponent or two, he delivered a punch straight to her jaw. Many of the crowd gasped when Videl flew back like a crash test dummy, harshly slammed into the ring's surface and skid to a halt mere inches from its edge.

"And for the first time all tournament, Gohan delivered a physical offensive move and it's got Videl down yet again! One…"

Immediately, Gohan felt awful. There wasn't any fun to be had in hurting somebody weaker than him.

"Two…"

But he gave Videl's question deeper thought.

"Three…"

Why was he fighting Videl, really? He could defeat her with a Kiai just as he'd done to his earlier opponents.

"Four…"

Was it just the challenge? It couldn't have been, since she didn't stand a fireball's chance in the ocean.

"Five…"

Wait.

Did Videl just get back up?!

Granted, she was dizzy and nearly stumbled out of the ring as she did so, but to Gohan's complete bewilderment, she did. And she was _smiling!_ Even as the entire bottom left corner of her face already showed discoloration. There weren't any other Saiyans left in the universe, right?

"S-See, you got that outta your system, right?" she panted, slurring her words and spitting blood. "And thanks for getting' my wisdom tooth surgery out of the way!"

"Is she insane?!" Gohan wondered out loud.

"Wow! That's the daughter of Mr. Satan for ya! Just when it looked like she was gonna finish her Junior Division run with a whimper, Videl gets back up anyway!"

Videl stayed put and folded her arms. "I don't plan on moving from here, so you're just gonna have to come at me!"

Gohan had no idea what sort of angle Videl was trying to pull. He obliged, dashing across the ring to reach her. The only problem was, he wasn't sure what he was going to do. And with his aimless flight, he wasn't prepared for when Videl jumped out of the way and turned around.

When Gohan swung around to face Videl, she grinned. The second he planted his feet on the floor, she slid her leg and swept them out from under him. For the first time all fight, all _tournament_ , Gohan panicked; he felt the bottom of his feet slip off the edge of the ring.

It was exactly the opening Videl sought. She _had_ him. Knowing she fared much better when she attacked Gohan with her feet rather than her fists, she crouched down to gather herself for the mother of all dropkicks.

Unfortunately for Videl, the disapproving voice of Piccolo that Gohan entirely constructed in his own head after his folly made him alert again. Turning gravity into his personal servant, Gohan flipped upside down and landed on the floor on just the tip of his index finger. It was all to fast for Videl to react – she'd already lunged out leg-first. The only thing she met was air, and her destination? The grass.

In a panic, Videl shut her eyes and focused.

Gohan hopped up and flipped so he was back on his feet. What he saw when he looked up made his jaw nearly hit the ring's surface.

"Wait a minute!" The announcer exclaimed. "Videl…is FLOATING!"

Indeed, Videl performed the Ki 'trick' Gohan had just taught her and used it to steady herself in the air before she could touch the grass. Even Krillin and the others were genuinely shocked. And "shock" was an understatement as far as the rest of the crowd was concerned.

However, just suspending herself in mid-air for a few seconds sucked every ounce of energy out of Videl. Before she could likely kill her luck by yelling "I did it!" or even think about how amazing a feeling it was, she backflipped and landed feet-first back in the ring.

The crowd exploded with cheers.

Videl was heaving air like she'd just ran twenty miles. It was a shot in the dark, honestly. She remembered how Gohan and the other martial artists could fly in the Cell Games footage and figured it, like the other "tricks," was triggered by Ki. As her luck would have it, she was on the money. After bending down to clutch her legs and take a breather, she looked back up at Gohan. When she saw the dumbstruck expression contorting his features, she burst out laughing.

"Holy crap, I would've thought I'd have to kiss you to get a reaction like that!" Wait, why was that her first suggestion…?

Gohan shook his head and regained his composure, laughing. "You really are remarkable, Videl."

The compliment made Videl's eyes glow in appreciation, another genuine smile spreading across her lips. The feelings his words gave her nearly made her forget about the match.

"I think I figured out my answer," Gohan said with grin of contentment.

Videl snapped back to normal and crouched into an aggressive fighting stance, though she was running on empty. "W-Well, I hope for your sake the answer's winning, 'cause this one isn't over yet!" She stumbled towards Gohan, sloppily aiming a punch at his face that he only needed to sidestep to evade.

"You're completely spent, but you've fought well," Gohan assessed. He clenched his right fist, gathering a force of wind to it. It was a technique Piccolo had taught him once. One last time, Gohan smiled.

"Thank you."

He swung his fist forward like a punch, but didn't connect – instead, the force of the wind sent her spiraling away mostly painless. She fell out of the ring and onto the grass, concluding the fight.

Chi-Chi nodded in approval. She knew that technique well.

"IT'S OVER! The winner by ringout and Junior Division Champion...Son Gohan!"

Confetti blasted off, and while there were many in the crowd disappointed that Videl lost, the rest of the fans cheered on the new champion. Many of the kids, hell even the adults, were stunned by his unusual powers.

"Yes! Say hello to the prize money!" Chi-Chi cheered.

"Woo-hoo! Big Brother's awesome!" Goten yelled from Chi-Chi's lap.

"And now, the true main event begins," Vegeta said, a sadistic smirk reminiscent of his days working for Frieza making its way to his lips. For once, the rest of them agreed with him when they remembered that buffoon.

Unsurprisingly, the victory itself meant little to Gohan. His focus was on his defeated opponent. He headed over to ringside, waiting for Videl to stand up.

Videl was exhausted. She cursed herself for letting Gohan punch her earlier. It was part of an absurd plan and she never really recovered. The energy she'd spent just to float for a few seconds was the cherry on top of a fight that was over from the start. The frustration and disappointment left her sunken on the grass.

After sulking for a few moments, Videl sat up. She looked up at Gohan as he held his hand out for her, but shut her eyes and scoffed at the gesture. "Please. It wasn't a 'good fight.' I couldn't even compete."

"Oh, c'mon, don't say that. You did as good as you possibly could have," Gohan answered, though he withdrew his hand. When he thought about it, pitying Videl just added to the sting.

Videl stood up on her own. Her expression was guarded as she stared at the ground. "So…what was it, anyway? Your answer – why were you in this tournament when you could clearly win without even trying."

Gohan took a deep breath, toppling teenage anxiety in his head. "Well…I like you."

Videl didn't verbally respond, but the heavy blushing and wide eyes were an answer enough.

Of course, Gohan's face was just as red. "But, besides that, when you first challenged me you brought up the 'tricks' and all of that stuff. You've got a lot of pride in you. You remind me of one of my allies, actually. Probably the same height, too." Gohan rapidly swung his head in either direction to make sure Vegeta wasn't within earshot.

Continuing, Gohan said, "I know I said I don't like fighting, but…that's just for the type of situations I've always been in, I think. Noting but life or death battles, and even when I was sparring with my dad, it was just to prepare for more fights where the whole universe hung in the balance."

Videl felt like she needed a translator when talking to Gohan. Here was a guy her age that seemingly lived the life of a superhero from TV. What was the deal with him?!

"After everything that happened with Cell, I didn't want to fight anymore; not after it brought me so much pain. But after I saw the spirit you had, you inspired something else," Gohan said. "I just wanted to have fun and fight with nothing to worry about. Just spar, y'know; I could get to know you and help you grow as a fighter."

"You're good with words too, Gohan," Videl glowed, a smile slowly forming. "And you're right. When you fight somebody, you can find out a lot about them. I had to learn that, too. You fought before to save, and I just fought to win."

One last time, Videl swung her fist out and nailed Gohan's cheek with a playful punch. "You can fight and connect with somebody, too."

She let the punch linger, staring into Gohan's eyes intently. _That damn smile_ , she said to herself. The boy was gracious even in victory. She wasn't the only one making things into a staring contest, either. Gohan was fixated on her eyes – the ones that drew him back into the tournament. Her smile looked even nicer with more warmth behind it.

Their thoughts were cut off when the announcer spoke again. "Give it up once again for both of these fighters! With their age, they won't be in the junior division next time around, but I'm sure they'll make a big splash in the real tournament!"

Videl's smile intensified into a determined smirk. "I know I said all of that rosy stuff, but don't think this is over, Gohan. It might take a while, but next time we meet, I'll be ready."

"Sure thing," Gohan replied. Videl peevishly glared at him – it was the same smug, disbelieving tone he'd used with her from earlier in the day.

"Gohan's got a Ten Million Zeni grand prize waiting for him, and that's not all! He's gonna fight Mr. Satan himself!"

Gohan expected Videl to dread his fate and wish him luck, but instead, she had a question. "How did my dad defeat Cell, anyway?"

"Huh, I don't know," Gohan fibbed. "I think I was knocked out by that point."

"Knocked out, huh?' Videl replied, skepticism peppering her tone.

* * *

Mr. Satan hyperventilated in his lounge. It was tough to hear the announcement about Videl's loss, but with who she was up against, it was a formality. What scared the crap out of him was going up against Gohan, and not just for the physical punishment.

He _could_ fake an illness, but then the committee might deem him a health hazard and disqualify him from the entire tournament. And not only that, but after the type of things Gohan and Videl pulled off in plain sight of the audience…God, he'd already seen a movement of Delivery Boy Truthers on the internet. If he ducked, that would send speculation through the roof.

The tournament official from earlier showed back up in his room. "Sorry about your daughter's defeat, sir. But, it's time to give Son Gohan his promised fight!"

After speeding through a couple of other excuses to dodge the fight in his mind, Mr. Satan decided there was no use. "Uh, yeah, uh…sure. I'll be right down there."

"Just try to go easy on him!" the official advised as Mr. Satan left the room.

"Yeah, I'll uh, try," Mr. Satan uneasily chuckled.

His trail down the compound and to the ring felt like that of a pirate walking the plank. All he could ask himself was why those superpowered maniacs were even showing up at a place like this. And how he could even approach explaining away whatever would go down in the ring.

When he made it downstairs, Videl was waiting by the entrance, her arms folded. His daughter's face carried a stern expression that he couldn't read.

"I know, dad. I lost," she muttered. There was an edge to her tone. The swollen jaw didn't help matters.

"Oh, it's fine, darling!" Mr. Satan yelled far louder than he intended. "You fought well but you know how it goes you win some you lose some hahahahahaha!"

"What are you so nervous for?" Videl asked, though it was phrased more like a statement than a question. Her eyebrow arched as if she were conducting an interrogation.

"Nothing, of course! You know your dad's the champ, after all! I'm just excited to see that kid from the Cell games again after all this time, th-that's all! Nothing more!" Mr. Satan was laughing like he was at a comedy club and not a tournament.

"Well don't keep the audience waiting forever," Videl said.

"Um, yeah, right." Mr. Satan made his bumbling march outdoors. "W-Wish me luck!" _Cuz I'll really need it…!_

Videl smirked. "Good luck." There was a level of mischief in her tone that made her father squirm. Just great, even she was picking up on his terror and mocking him for it.

Mr. Satan cleared his throat and put on his best brave front with the audience looking at him. Swinging his fists high in the air, the champion unleashed a powerful scream to the roars of the crowd.

"THE CHAMP…IS…HERE!"

"And here he is, folks! Gohan's got the opportunity of a lifetime to test his skills against the reigning champion!" The announcer fought off laughter as he spoke, eagerly anticipating this moment.

This time, Chi-Chi _and_ Bulma stood up to cheer Gohan on.

"C'mon, Gohan, break that idiot's ribs!" Chi-Chi yelled. Her bloodthirsty words startled the nearby spectators.

"Don't forget to knock out a tooth or two!" Bulma added.

When Mr. Satan stepped into the ring, he turned his attention to the announcer. Leaning close, he whispered. "Hey, uh, do you mind backing away for a sec. I just wanted to share a few words with the boy before the match. Y'know, encouraging stuff that the cameras don't need to pick up!"

"Oh, well, sure."

At a speed even he hadn't realized he was capable of, Mr. Satan zipped up to Gohan and leaned uncomfortably close to his face.

"How much?!" Mr. Satan squeaked, prompting a confused hum from Gohan. "I-I'll pay you anything, way more than the prize money!"

"What do you mean?" Gohan asked.

Mr. Satan pleadingly clasped his hands together. "Look, I know why you're here, and I'm really really really really really really _really_ sorry! I was just really overwhelmed by everything and they shoved a mic in my face, that's all! I didn't mean to steal your thunder!"

"Right, that," Gohan answered. "I don't really care about all that stuff. I don't want a bunch of cameras and reporters in my face, or people worshipping me."

The "savior" made the biggest smile of relief possible, almost startling Gohan. "Oh, that's **great** to hear!"

However, Gohan's face grew stern. "But –"

Satan's head sunk back down.

"I don't plan on throwing the fight, either."

Mr. Satan pursed his lips like a kid with his hands caught in the cookie jar. "Oh."

"I don't want to hurt you or anything, but I'm just letting you know," Gohan remarked. "All that stuff you said about 'tricks' never really sat well with me, either."

Sensing how the tide was turning, Mr. Satan resumed pleading. Now his reputation wasn't the only thing he feared for. "Uh, well, look, I wasn't really planning on actually 'winning' this match anyway so, uh, would it be asking too much for a deal?"

Gohan rolled his eyes. "And just what kind of deal are you talking?"

"Just punch me _really_ light, and then we'll make it look like I let you win!"

Gohan's irritated, half-lidded eyes weren't the answer Mr. Satan wanted.

Mr. Satan turned the begging up a notch. "C'mon please, I got bills to pay, too! I promise you'll get a cut of all my future earnings!"

"I mean, I'll do it, but under one condition," Gohan replied. "Tell Videl the truth. I don't really care what you say to everybody else, but you have to tell her straight up. She's really strong for a human but she's cocky too, and it's mostly based off a lie."

"Yeah, I gotcha," Mr. Satan said, nodding vigorously. "Wait, whaddaya mean 'for a human?'"

"What?"

"Huh?"

"Anyway…" the misdirect seemed to work. "Besides that, she deserves to know. She's your daughter, and even though I know you want her to look up to you and everything, you shouldn't lie to her."

Mr. Satan slumped his shoulders, actually feeling guilty. It was hard to argue with what Gohan said. "Yeah…you're right. Guess I just let all of the fame and money get to my head."

"So, uh…do you guys plan on getting this fight underway?" the announcer asked.

"Oh, right!" Mr. Satan sprung back to the announcer and, as he was wont to do today, snatched the microphone out of his hand. "I was just congratulating him for a job well done and thanked him for lending a hand against Cell is all!"

"You're welcome," Gohan hissed through his teeth, his irritation returning.

"Now let's get it on!" Skillfully tossing the microphone back at the announcer while yanking off his cape at the same time, Mr. Satan raised his fists in the air. The theatrical champion got into a fighting stance and charged at Gohan, although at dramatically slow speed. He pretended to slip, gift-wrapping Gohan an opening.

Gohan sighed with boredom. This would be simple, really – no different from when he punched Videl, except even lighter. He balled up his fist. As he watched the large, burly man barrel towards him, he cringed. Between his blowhard demeanor and ridiculous hair, it was hard to think much of him, much less believe he could produce somebody as pretty as Videl. And after the fight, he would undoubtedly resume his obnoxious show for the cameras. Nonetheless, Gohan had a job to do. He swung, expecting to lightly tap Mr. Satan on the face.

Instead, he punched him hard enough to launch all the way out of the ring, through a couple of tables, and into the wall of the tournament compound. He smacked against the surface so hard, he caved in.

 _Silence_.

From the crowd, the announcer, and even Gohan.

The half-Saiyan winced. He looked down at his fist, which was still extended forward.

"Aw, shit."

A Freudian Slip? Probably.

While the crowd around them was rendered to stunned silence and Bulma held back some snickers, Chi-Chi leaped out of her seat and turned so the entire audience could see her.

"HELL YEAH! You see, that, idiots?! That's my Gohan for ya! You better remember that name when he wins a Nobel Prize!"

Even as Mr. Satan's brains were absolutely scrambled while he agonized in the wall, one thought prevailed: what the hell was he thinking, volunteering for a punch from a guy like Gohan? Clearly, their ideas of light significantly differed. "Light" from Gohan meant Mr. Satan's face feeling like it was smacked by at least five anvils.

"Well…Gohan wins, folks!"

The crowd was still too stunned to cheer.

"Worth it," Vegeta muttered before walking away to head for lower ground. His sentiments were shared.

As much as he regretted not holding back as much as he promised, Gohan felt relieved to finally let that particular frustration out. There was somebody else on his mind, however, and she was standing at the compound's entrance. Videl didn't look as stunned as the other Satan worshippers of the audience, though. In fact, she smirked at Gohan. Gohan responded in kind.

Through willpower that clearly outpaced his abilities, Mr. Satan somehow tore himself away from the wall he'd been engraved in. He nearly fell on his face when he landed on the grass, sure, but he still picked himself back up and stumbled into the ring. And he was…laughing?

"Ha ha! Th-That was a nice shot you got on me, kid!" He rubbed his jaw furiously. With how much pain he was in, it wound up looking theatrical anyway. "I guess I lose, huh?!"

Mr. Satan certainly wasn't going to win any acting awards in the announcer's playbook. But he had an idea of what he was _trying_ to do, at least. "Oh, right. Well look at that, folks, isn't Mr. Satan great with kids?!"

Mr. Satan turned to the crowd and laughed some more, just a slight hint of desperation behind the boisterous guffaws. It took a few moments, but the crowd applauded him.

 _Boy, is he lucky I'm nice,_ Gohan mused to himself.

* * *

The real tournament got off to an inauspicious start when, after drawing Vegeta in the first round, Yamcha decided to simply cut his losses and drop out entirely. The first round was cursed for the scar-faced warrior. That left Krillin, Piccolo, Vegeta, and Trunks as the fighters to set the bar for fighting quality.

Yamcha's surrender meant a first-round bye for Vegeta, but Piccolo, Trunks, and Krillin might as well have gotten one too. Since their luck ran better than Yamcha's, they didn't draw any of each other's number, allowing them to easily one-shot their ways to the quarter-finals. Not as luckily, none of them drew Mr. Satan.

Granted, it was quite a surprise when the loudmouthed defending champion (after being treated following Gohan's punch, of course) easily defeated his first-round opponent. So at the very least, among regular Ki-impaired fighters, Mr. Satan was pretty good.

Vegeta finally sprung to action in the second round. Well, sprung wasn't exactly the right word to use – more like slouched. His opponent? A slender, blond pretty-boy named Jewel. Far from the type of person to satisfy a Saiyan's blood.

Many women in the audience swooned as the two opponents made their way to the ring. Jewel received most of the coos and calls from the ladies, but Vegeta had his share of fans himself, including a couple of girls sitting near Bulma.

"Oh my, forget about Jewel; give me a piece of the one with the spiky hair," one of the girls, a blonde one, marveled.

"Yeah, he's so rugged. He doesn't even need a uniform either! Just going out there in his street clothes like a badass," her redhead friend added.

"HEY! Hands off the merchandise!" Bulma shrieked, butting in between the two younger women.

"'Hands off?'" the blonde scoffed. "We're just enjoying the view, lady. How could we _not_ with that bod?"

Bulma triumphantly folded her arms with a cocky grin. "Well I'll have you two know that 'bod' is all mine!"

"Oh, pipe down, Bulma, you two don't even sleep in the same room," Chi-Chi rudely interrupted.

The two younger women laughed as Bulma glared daggers at Chi-Chi. "Dammit, Chi-Chi, you're supposed to have my back here!" Chi-Chi smiled mischievously and shrugged.

After Vegeta stepped in the ring, he kept his back turned to Jewel. The blond fighter took offense.

"Hey, you know we have a match that's about to start, right?!"

Vegeta ignored him. What he mostly thought about was why Gohan and Trunks didn't just forgo this tournament nonsense to begin with, find a nice wasteland, and fight him there. They placed greater value in friendship and meetings, apparently. And of course, Vegeta had no interest in even entertaining a battle until Trunks dangled the prospect in front of him.

"Dammit, you are going to look at me!" Jewel demanded.

Then again, why did he accept the offer? Fighting was a sore subject thanks to his unresolved pursuit of Goku's defeat.

"With your stupid hair!"

Jewel had enough. He grabbed Vegeta's shoulder.

Vegeta exploded his Ki around him to blow Jewel away and launch him from the ring. Needless to say, he was the victor by ring out and followed him soon after. There was a far more interesting fight following his – Trunks and Piccolo.

And what a fight it was. The spectators had never seen a battle of that scale up close. Any idea about Trunks' combat skills decaying was sorely mistaken. Clearly, his grown-up son had continued training to ensure that no fluke accidents happened against even Cell's imperfect form. Against a tactical genius like Piccolo, it shined brightly.

Of course, with the two taking it easy so as not to destroy the ring or endanger the fans, Trunks had no need to transform. Doing so may have saved him from one major close call, however.

When Trunks flew into the air, he was precisely where Piccolo wanted him. The Namekian fired a shower of Ki blasts that drew an intrigued eyebrow from Vegeta. That technique was right out of his playbook; only, there was something peculiar about Piccolo's method. Instead of firing the blasts at Trunks, he seemed to be aiming around him, and suspended them in midair.

Before Trunks - or Vegeta, for that matter – had a chance to realize what was going on, every tiny Ki ball launched into him and exploded like a megaton bomb. The explosion was bright and smoky, nearly blinding the stunned audience.

By the time the clouds of smoke and dust dispersed, Trunks lay on the floor in a heap. His clothes were torn and stained with dirt. The announcer began his count, but Piccolo knew better. He rocketed down towards Trunks, ready to deal the knockout blow, but Trunks leaped from the floor and slammed his golden boot into Piccolo's shoulder. The kick stunned the Namekian warrior, and that allowed Trunks to gather as much Ki as possible and blast Piccolo out of the ring, ending the fight.

"Yeah, I won!" the younger Trunks cheered following the ring out.

Trunks sank to his knees. He was lucky he was able to muster up enough strength to leap back up. Piccolo stood up and gave Trunks a nod of respect.

That battle marked the end of the quarter-finals, meaning the father and son would meet in what was surely the "real" championship match. Vegeta smirked as he felt a sensation that hadn't come to him in years – the anticipation of a fight.

The first bout of the semi-finals went down in a way nobody was expecting. Krillin got the match he wanted – one on one with Mr. Satan.

Normally, the "champ" would have had a parade of short jokes for Krillin, but he recognized the noseless warrior from the Cell Games. Terrified jittering replaced his usual bravado. Making things worse was the smug grin on Krillin's face as they stared each other down. Somehow, Mr. Satan doubted that he could negotiate with him like with Gohan.

"Let the semi-finals begin!" The announcer shouted.

In the crowd, Bulma, Chi-Chi and Android 18 got a few laughs at the turn of events.

"Y'know, I wonder if Krillin will get some prize money for knocking off the reigning champion," Bulma mused.

"That'd be nice," 18 replied. "Not like he's got a chance against your gu- _oh, shit."_

Android 18 winced as she felt a sharp pain hit her stomach, alarming Bulma, Chi-Chi, Roshi and the others. Beads of sweat filled her forehead as she panted heavily, the pain growing. "Wh-What's going on…?"

Suddenly, she let out an agonized shriek and clutched her stomach. Chi-Chi and Bulma exchanged a quick glance, knowing exactly what was happening.

"Guys, 18's going into labor!" Chi-Chi exclaimed. The Android's screams grew louder, drawing attention from the entire section of the audience. As her agony intensified, she reached out her hand to Bulma.

"Oh no, you're not grabbing _my_ hand!" Bulma whined before shoving Oolong in front of herself. The unwilling volunteer was screaming almost as loud as 18 when she clamped his hand to mush.

"Somebody call a medic and let Krillin know! He wouldn't want to miss this!" Chi-Chi directed. Roshi nodded and called out to one of the attendees in the crowd to alert the paramedics about the pregnant super-powered cyborg.

Just before Krillin could make his first move, a tournament official pulled the announcer to the side. "Hold on, folks!" he called before leaning into the official.

"Oh my!" The announcer yelled moments later while Krillin tapped his foot impatiently. He had glory to claim, dammit.

"Hey, do you mind telling me what's the hold up, here?!" Krillin demanded.

"Well, Krillin…your wife just went into labor!" The announcer anxiously answered.

The hair on Krillin's head nearly stood up like a Super Saiyan's when he heard the news. Tears of joy quickly welled up in his eyes as the fight became an afterthought.

"Oh my God…I'M GONNA BE A FATHER!" Krillin dashed out of the ring and straight into the tournament compound.

Mr. Satan and the announcer shared an awkward glance. The announcer shrugged before making, um, his announcement. "Well, it's great news to hear for one of our favorite veterans of the tournament, but…since the match was already underway, Krillin loses by ring out! Mr. Satan advances to the championship round."

Most of the crowd weren't cheering, instead delighted and captivated by the incoming baby news.

Mr. Satan blinked aimlessly. His luck had a habit of taking wild swings.

"Hooraayyyyy," the champ weakly squeaked. "Uh, anybody…?"

Gohan had been inside the tournament compound with the rest of the adult fighters, watching everything up close. When Krillin zipped past him to reach the medical facility, he smiled brightly. The elated, if panicked, smile on Krillin's face made it obvious how excited he was. He was truly enjoying the blessing of a family.

Something Gohan realized Krillin was able to receive thanks to his actions against Cell.

Something that his father's sacrifice aided.

It was always easy to label Goku selfish for how he prioritized his obsession with fighting. But when it came down to it, he was willing to throw his life away for his loved one's sake without a second thought. Gohan had spent the last three years agonizing over the fact Goku wouldn't have had to go that far if not for his arrogance, when Goku himself had no hard feelings and would do it again.

Mistakes happened, but in the end, Gohan overcame them and won, allowing happy days for everyone else.

Gohan wasn't the only one whose actions helped bring about happy moments like that, either. Trunks tried to reach over to congratulate Krillin while he sped to the emergency room, but the diminutive fighter was far too focused on what was ahead to even acknowledge him.

The future Trunks laughed. It had gone the _complete_ opposite of what he'd expected. Android 18 helped send Trunks' entire world in despair and killed his best friend, and mentor. Yet thanks to Trunks' warning, and the actions of the young version of the very same master, she brought Krillin the gift of a child. Funny how time worked.

Now, there was one thing left on the horizon for Trunks: a fight with his father. All throughout the day, Vegeta had an apathy in his demeanor that Trunks wasn't accustomed to with his headstrong father. All throughout the ordeal with the Androids, Vegeta's motives always circled back to surpassing Goku and defeating him. That was snatched out of his hands in one fell swoop and left him without a purpose. Without a goal, the flame behind Vegeta's passion for combat diminished. Yet, all Trunks had to do to draw him into the tournament was mention Gohan and himself. The fire was still there, but buried.

All Vegeta needed was the right challenge to ignite it. Trunks stepped outside, ready for one last important fight.


	4. Bright Future

"Now here's a fight that'll be really interesting. It's a father-son showdown to decide who faces Mr. Satan in the final round!"

The younger Trunks observed his father and his older counterpart enter the ring with conflict. Just like when Future Trunks first showed up, the younger boy's brain was a mess. On one hand, there was his father, and on the other hand, there was, well…himself.

Trunks suddenly stood up and raised his fist in the air, deciding who to root for.

"Go, me!" Trunks shouted.

Goten looked at Trunks and quickly decided who he'd root for, too. "Go, 'Geta!"

"Go me!"

"Go 'Geta!"

"I guess Trunks is out for himself!" Roshi quipped.

After laughing at her son's shenanigans, Bulma set her eyes on the fight that was about to begin. Clearly, Future Trunks invited Vegeta to the tournament to try to force him out his slump. Hopefully, a father-son duel would do the trick.

Gohan and Piccolo stood inside to observe the battle, soon joined by a certain pig-tailed fighter. "I guess this is like the main event for you guys, huh?" Videl remarked.

Gohan nodded. After the Junior Division tournament wrapped up, two of Videl's friends had come out to encourage her and chat. One of them, a tall blond boy named Sharpner, couldn't stop asking Gohan to tell him his secrets and work out with him. And then her other friend, a blonde girl named Erasa, was a handful. If Videl hid her affection behind hostility, that girl was way too eager to show hers. If Gohan had a coin for every time she called him cute, he wouldn't have needed the prize money.

Probably to get her mind off fighting, Videl chose to hang out with them rather than watch the main tournament. But she returned in time for Trunks and Vegeta's fight.

"BEGIN!"

Vegeta took a deep breath to try calming himself. He hadn't engaged in battle since the fateful day of the Cell Games, and he had trouble fighting off the nerves that arose. While his Ki control remained sharp thanks to his lessons with the younger Trunks, he had no way of gauging where he stood elsewhere.

If Trunks knew anything about Vegeta, it was that he preferred kicking fights off aggressively. This hesitant variation mystified him. Even as he crouched into the customary fighting stance that Trunks had seen numerous times in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, his movements possessed uncharacteristic trepidation.

Opting to draw Vegeta's instincts out himself, Trunks took on the role of aggressor. He flew at Vegeta, and when his father barely blocked the ensuing punch by the skin of his teeth, Trunks realized this was going to be a bit of a process.

Though he didn't intend to, Trunks practically taunted Vegeta with how quickly he evaded the punch he'd thrown in response. Seeing Trunks' composure compared to his ramped up Vegeta's intensity, producing a flurry of punches from the prince. Trunks still remained a step ahead of him however, ducking, dodging and blocking Vegeta's attacks with little evidence of exerting himself.

The advantage was obvious. Trunks knew it, too. After swiftly jumping sideways to avoid a stronger punch, Trunks delivered a kick straight to his father's jaw that sent him airborne. If that wasn't enough, he phased behind Vegeta and slammed his elbow into his back hard enough to send him crashing back down to the ring.

"Ouch! It looks like Trunks has Vegeta's number early and is just a step faster than him! I'll begin the count! One…"

The announcer couldn't even finish saying "two" before Vegeta hopped back up and flew after Trunks. His frenzy only earned him a dropkick to his chest. While he regained his bearings before he hit the floor, he couldn't keep up with Trunks' tenacity. Vegeta just barely lifted two hands to block the fist that came his way in time, and all that accomplished was leaving him open for the knee that sunk into his gut. As the full-blooded Saiyan clutched his stomach in agony, his half-breed son took advantage and slammed both of his arms down on his back sending him in a spiral down to the ring again.

He didn't stop there. Before Vegeta could even land again, Trunks kicked him in the waist to send him tumbling to ringside. Just narrowly, Vegeta thwarted an embarrassing ring out loss by using his hand to spring from the ring's edge and leap into the sky.

To his chagrin, Trunks already floated behind him by the time he finished his ascent. Two seconds later, he reacquainted with the floor courtesy of an elbow delivered pin-point on the back of his neck. That one kept him down for a couple of counts.

Mercifully, as Vegeta stumbled his way back up, Trunks didn't return for another assault. The prince angrily spat blood into the ground, cursing his futility. His rust ran far deeper than he'd thought. Trunks had him fumbling like an amateur out there.

As nice as it was getting the better of Vegeta in a fight for once, Trunks didn't feel much satisfaction. This clumsy, helpless fighter wasn't the Vegeta he knew. It may have been rust, Trunks pondered, but every movement his father made appeared tentative. _Tentative –_ the absolute last word anybody could use to describe Vegeta. It was time to try something rash to fix that.

If it weren't for the purple hair and blue eyes, the smirk that Trunks put on display would've been a mirror image of Vegeta's. "Heh, you're going soft, aren't you, dad?"

Vegeta's eyes nearly doubled in size. That arrogant tone sounded almost foreign coming from future Trunks' mouth. "Wh-What?"

Trunks smile deepened as he went along. "I wanted to fight you because I thought you'd kept up with your training, but you're not even worth my time."

Trunks' taunts earned a ferocious snarl from his father. Vegeta could stand for a lot of things – okay, no he couldn't – but he would _not_ accept being insulted by his meek, soft-spoken son.

"How _dare_ you," Vegeta snarled, a vein in his forehead pulsating as his fists tightened.

From afar, Gohan laughed.

 _Almost there!_ Trunks thought. As if he hadn't already imitated his father's mannerisms well enough, he was now folding his arms and tilting his head back. "I guess I should've just hidden my power from you like I did when we got out of the time chamber!"

Bingo!

Vegeta pursued Trunks with a feral roar. The younger Saiyan jumped into the sky, but Vegeta met him in seconds. The prince's senses were prescient, allowing him to follow Trunks' movements effortlessly. Still, Trunks evaded a kick sent his way, but it would be the last chance he got to go untouched.

The second Trunks moved again, Vegeta's fist violently collided with his jaw. He didn't even have a chance to fly backwards before Vegeta kicked him in the chest, his foot getting him in his solar plexus. Two fists to the back of the head later, and it was Trunks who crashed into the ring's surface.

"And Vegeta answers his son's assault by saying 'Trunks, you're grounded!' One…"

Vegeta almost felt like laughing as he caught his breath, and not at the announcer's abysmal joke. It had been too long since he'd dished out pain. But he didn't have much time to bask in the feeling, knowing his son's toughness. As soon as the announcer said three, Trunks stood back up.

As he'd done when he talked him into joining the tournament, Trunks pushed the right button. Vegeta's pride couldn't stay tucked under forever. Turning the intensity up several notches, Trunks fired a wave of Ki into the sky; Vegeta vaporized it with the palm of his hands and flew back down to the ring.

"Toy with me, will you?!" Vegeta sneered. He soon grinned, however. "Fine."

Both Gohan and Piccolo gasped when they felt Vegeta's Ki rise. This may have amounted to nothing more than a frivolous exhibition fight, but that was clearly irrelevant to Vegeta now.

Golden aura exploded around Vegeta. His hair took on the same color. His eyes flashed to teal. It was Vegeta's Super Saiyan transformation, unleashed in front of tens of thousands of flabbergasted fans.

A loud thud and raspy cry of anguish emerged from a room in the top floor of the tournament's compound.

Videl tried to form words, but nothing could escape from her mouth besides gasps and stutters. This was the technique from the Cell Games, with the blazing aura and golden hair. And that was to say nothing of the Ki blasts, which dwarfed what Gohan taught her into a tennis ball.

"Wow…what do you guys even do that for?" Videl asked. "Is it just to look cool or something?"

"Nope, it's to increase our power. We get even stronger in that state," Gohan explained.

"Can…can I learn it too?!"

"'Fraid not," Gohan snickered.

"Call it a fashion statement or a transformation, but Vegeta's hair has taken on a golden form!" The announcer said, hanging from the edge of the ring as the heavy gusts of wind their powers produced threatened to blow him away.

"It's about time!" Trunks shouted, before transforming as well. Now the force had grown too strong for the announcer's grip, and he drifted away from the ring. Luckily a force courtesy of a Namekian finger kept him from hitting any walls.

An enormous Ki radiated around Trunks. Vegeta could sense a power from it exceeding his own, confirming Trunks' improvement. Still, it was nothing Vegeta feared – as an elite Saiyan, he would find a way to overcome it.

The father and son clashed in mid-air, the force of their collision producing a shockwave that shook the entire arena. Soon, they were engaging in mid-air hand-to-hand combat so fast that none of the fans had a hope of following them.

"Well, fans, I wish I could call the action for you guys, but I'm just about lost." The Announcer thought Piccolo and Goku's battle was the craziest thing he'd ever seen, but he was clearly mistaken.

To Videl, all she could see was a series of blurs and ripple effects in the air. Her eyeballs worked overtime to keep track of the two, but the entire practice was an exercise in sensory overload. She observed Gohan and Piccolo, both of whom stood calmly while their pupils moved back and forth.

"Wait, can you guys actually see this stuff?" Videl asked. "How can your eyes even keep up?"

"Well that's the thing; we're not just using our eyes," Gohan calmly explained. "We're feeling out their Ki."

"Oh, right." Videl didn't have a clue what Gohan had just said.

The battle was a total back and forth between the two. Trunks would land a powerful strike, Vegeta would answer back. But as the exchange wore on, their gap in power grew more evident. Trunks' attacks left more impact, making it increasingly difficult for Vegeta to keep up. That did nothing to dull Vegeta's drive, however, only ramping it up a notch or three.

Trunks aimed a kick at Vegeta's skull that may have knocked him out, but the prince exploded his energy around him. It knocked Trunks far enough away for Vegeta to blast him with a long-range stream of Ki. Trunks crashed into the ring's surface, and as soon as he stood up Vegeta rained a shower of blasts down on him. Unlike with Piccolo earlier, Trunks was his sole target.

By that point, the audience had given up on trying to make sense of what they were seeing, instead cheering like it was a pro wrestling showdown. It was hard to even claim them tricks up close and personal, where the impact could be felt.

Vegeta ceased his assault to catch his breath. Smoke submerged the ring, while the announcer decided it was best to just remain out of it for the remainder of the fight. As the smoke cleared, the extent of the battle's damage displayed itself. The once perfectly white surface of the ring was battered and cracked.

And in the middle of it, Trunks still stood. Arms crossed and reeling, but standing nonetheless.

"Damn it all," Vegeta spat. As he descended to the ring's surface, he considered another approach.

When Vegeta landed, he smirked and squeezed both fists at his sides tightly. As his Ki swelled, the ground shook. An even more intense aura burst from him as his muscles expanded, raising alarm from Trunks. It was that transformation: the energy-expending mutation of Super Saiyan that the two had mistaken for the ascended form. It was a transformation he'd thought Vegeta was smart enough to reject, but perhaps a lack of practice dulled his battle senses.

But if Vegeta wanted to fight at that level, Trunks would gladly even the playing field. He unleashed the same transformation. "So it's back to that form, huh?!"

The two charged at each other, and the second Trunks sluggishly swung his fists, Vegeta's body practically deflated. He swiftly escaped the lethal punch coming his way and blasted Trunks' back.

"AMATEUR!" Vegeta taunted as he spryly dove at his son and struck him several times in his spine. He gathered his finishing blow, but Trunks tried to move out of the way. The dullness of his movements only meant Vegeta striking him from a different angle. Indeed, a vicious elbow nailed Trunks in the side of his skull, sending him to floor.

Vegeta couldn't resist mocking Trunks as the announcer proceeded with his count. "Foolish boy! You couldn't help getting baited into that joke of a form, could you?"

His laughs were cut short when Trunks delivered a Ki blast even as he lay on the floor that launched him into the sky. Trunks chased after him, and the clash of Super Saiyan strength waged on. Trunks had smartly powered down to his regular Super Saiyan form, chiding himself for falling for Vegeta's trap. But that showed how quickly Vegeta's battle wit had returned.

The younger Trunks watched his father and future counterpart duel with his mouth hung open. He'd never seen his dad fight for real, and that was to say nothing of the strength that he'd clearly grow to possess once he got old enough. When this tournament was over, he was gonna hound his dad to train him as often as possible.

Gohan could sense the end of the fight drawing near. Vegeta and Trunks were swinging for the fences with every attack now. The reluctance in Vegeta's movements were ancient history, the ferocity customary for the Saiyan prince in its place. Trunks descended to ring as he and Vegeta exchanged intense gazes, looking every bit like warriors engaged in mortal combat. Vegeta was clearly going to need a new white tank top and black jeans, while the residual damage from his fight with Piccolo was catching up to Trunks. It allowed Vegeta to catch up.

Vegeta decided it was time to lay the fight on the line. He cuffed his hands together, gathering an enormous amount of Ki to them. He was mindful of all of the people around him, of course, but he was confident it was enough to put Trunks down for at least a ten count. Trunks knew exactly what his father was up to and crossed his hands above his head to prepare an attack himself. The ground rumbled yet again as their Ki skyrocketed.

"GALLICK GUN!"

"MASENKO-HA!"

Gohan laughed. Of course that was Trunks' choice of attack – he taught him, after all!

Two enormous waves of Ki erupted from the Super Saiyans, emitting a blinding light that forced the entire audience to shield their eyes. The shockwaves of that emerged from the blasts' clash simulated a hurricane. Fortunately for them, Piccolo, Gohan, and Yamcha knew what was about to happen before the two warriors could even fire. Gohan grabbed Videl, and then joined Piccolo and Yamcha in standing in front of a section of the crowd and creating a protective forcefield, shielding them from the chaos.

Vegeta and Trunks unleashed one last surge of power, resulting in an outcome neither of them had seen coming. Both blasts overtook each other.

Seconds later, they hit their targets point-blank, triggering a pair of tremendous explosions.

The smoke faded moments later, and…

Both Vegeta and Trunks were left lying out of the ring.

Well, in this case, "ring" was more of a metaphysical concept. It was completely destroyed. In its place was a crater that seemed to run thousands of feet deep.

"Holy _shit_ ," Videl finally managed to squeak.

It hadn't even registered to the announcer that he was currently hanging in mid-air within Piccolo's grasp. The fight had been so explosive, all he could do was marvel.

What was this now, the _third_ time they'd manage to destroy the ring?!

"Um…wow. This battle was so intense not even the ring could withstand it! But, well…what does that mean for the tournament?!"

The crowd was silent, filled with a mix of suspense and utter amazement over the fight they'd witnessed. For a few, it was a welcome return to the old days of the tournament. The fans had their focus on the announcer, wondering what the official ruling was going to be.

"Hey uh, mind bringing me back down below?" The announcer requested to Piccolo. The Namekian obliged, descending to the grass and allowing him to meet with two officials.

Before their discussion could lead anywhere, a certain afro wearing warrior suddenly _leaped_ from the second story window of the tournament compound. Sure, he landed face-first, but his highly valued opinion had to be shared. As soon as he stood back up, he interrupted the huddle.

"I think it's pretty obvious to me, you guys! No ring, no tournament!" Mr. Satan hoarsely yelled.

"Yeah, that's certainly what it sounds like to me," one of the officials conceded. "But then, how will we declare who's the strongest under the heavens? That's the whole point of the tournament, after all!"

"How about we just rule it incomplete and hold the deciding fight at a later date?" the other official proposed. Mr. Satan felt his heart palpitate.

"Yeah, that makes sense. But first, we have to do the sudden death ordeal to decide a winner between Vegeta and Trunks," the announcer said.

Calling an audible, Mr. Satan simply snatched the microphone from the announcer's hands for the umpteenth time. "That won't be necessary, I got this!" The announcer protested, but Mr. Satan effortlessly shoved him away.

"Well, my amazing fans, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the tournament committee has entrusted me as the one to deliver it. Since the ring has been destroyed, we're afraid that the entire tournament has been declared a draw!"

The cascade of boos that erupted from the fans rivaled the explosion from Trunks and Vegeta's blasts. Fans pelted the remains of the ring with garbage, many shouting obscenities, and a certain blue-haired CEO offered some sign language that let committee know exactly what she thought of their decision.

"Yeah, I know, I know, but just try to bear with me, fans!" The champ dodged a can of soda aimed at his head. "As soon as the ring is rebuilt, there ain't just gonna be a rematch - there's gonna be a whole new tournament!"

Hey, Mr. Satan saved the world. Who had the audacity to try overruling him?

Many fans exchanged glances, essentially gauging each other's opinions of the ruling. It actually didn't sound like the worst thing in the world, especially if it meant more fights like what they'd just witnessed.

"Unbelievable," Videl grumbled.

Mr. Satan smiled for the first time in ages when a modicum of cheers emerged from the crowd. "So uh, fly home safely, and we hope to see you back soo-"

"Oh, _no_."

Mr. Satan's eyes bugged out like a slasher flick victim over the interruption. There stood Vegeta, limping his tattered, bloodied body towards him. Sure, he was reduced to a battered facsimile of his base form, but there was something about his jet-black eyes and ragged frame that sent shivers down Mr. Satan's spine.

Vegeta leaned in close enough to Mr. Satan that he was practically speaking into the microphone himself. "I have endured the displeasure of seeing your repugnant face for _far_ too fucking long." Many parents in the crowd gasped and covered their children's ears.

"Ha, 'Geta said a bad word!" Goten laughed. Chi-Chi hastily squeezed his ears as well.

The Saiyan warrior's cold eyes bore into Mr. Satan's cowering eyes, and if that wasn't bad enough, he clutched his brown gi's collar with one arm and curled his other back. "The brat may have gotten his shot in, but so will I!"

The officials didn't dare try to pry Vegeta off of their meal ticket – he was far too terrifying. Fortunately, Trunks stepped in. He grabbed his father's hand before it could swing. "C'mon, dad, let him go. It's not that serious."

Vegeta irritably flexed his jaw while he took a few moments to mull his son's request. Then, he exhaled. "Fine."

But, a wicked smirk spread across his lips. He let Mr. Satan go, alright.

As in, tossed him down the bottomless pit where the ring used to be.

"Dammit, father!" Trunks groaned as he flew down the hole to retrieve the champion huckster. Vegeta knew he'd save the idiot, but that didn't stop his amusement one bit. The sounds of Mr. Satan's periled screams rang far better to his ears than the nonsense Earthlings liked to call music. As he headed to the tournament compound, he gave the officials and the announcer a look that spelled painful things should they try to take action against him. They complied.

The prince was back.

* * *

While Videl was relieved after Trunks emerged from the crater with her boorish father in his arms, the incident still humored her tremendously. It had been a few hours since, and now she stood beside Gohan as he and the rest of his crew stood anxiously by one of the doors in the tournament's medical facility.

After what felt like an eternity, Krillin emerged from the room looking like he'd been through a battle himself. His eyes were filled with joyous tears.

"It's done, guys! My daughter's here!"

Everyone rushed into the room to see, ignoring the "family only" pleas of the nurses. As if they weren't family, anyway. If Krillin looked like he had been in a fight, 18 resembled a war veteran. For a super-powered cyborg with eternal energy, she was still absolutely spent. The pain of delivering a child easily topped fighting a Super Saiyan.

Trunks couldn't stop himself from wincing uncomfortably as he watched Android 18's smile joyfully at the baby crying in her arms. He didn't think such a gracious look of warmth was even capable of coming from her. In his world, the only thing that could ever make her smile was the joy of ending a life, not creating one.

None of that mattered, though. In this era, even she could find happiness.

"Hey, she doesn't have a nose either!" Goten observed, drawing big laughs.

"So Krillin, what's her name?" Bulma asked.

"Marron." Krillin answered, not taking his eyes off of her.

Master Roshi ruffled his hands through Krillin's hair. "Guess you had to keep the ol' chestnut somehow!"

As the friends laughed among themselves, Trunks approached the bed as Android 18 rested. Though his face grew crimson, he had to get his words out. Trunks awkwardly cleared his throat…

"Congratulations, Eighteen."

Trunks averted his eyes, but 18 still smiled at him. "Thanks." Eighteen looked down at Marron and gestured her towards Trunks. "You wanna hold her?"

Trunks was taken aback by her question, but he didn't want to be rude. It was a friendly interaction with the woman that he could have never envisioned in his life. 18 leaned forward, and gingerly placed the tiny baby in Trunks' hand. She writhed around in Trunks grip, and even he couldn't stop himself from smiling. She was the perfect picture of purity.

Until she started crying and swung one of her tiny arms at Trunks' face, scratching his eye in the process.

"Oh, sorry!" Android 18 cringed, grabbing Marron out of Trunks' arms while the half-Saiyan shrieked and clutched his eye. Bulma and the others erupted with laughter.

"Don't worry, it's fine," Trunks murmured, rubbing his sore and teary eye. Surely, that was some sort of metaphor.

Gohan nodded approvingly as everyone crowded around the newly formed family. _**This**_ _is why I fight_ , he observed, the happiness surrounding him reinforcing what he needed to protect.

"She's so adorable," Videl gushed. Though she'd only just met this strange group, it was hard not to be touched by the sight of a newborn.

Upon hearing Videl speak, Gohan remembered something that had been bugging him. "Say, Videl, have you spoken to your dad since the Junior Division tournament?"

Videl heaved a resentful sigh. "He was shacked up in a hospital bed after you hit him, and I've been avoiding him since. Why?"

"Don't worry about it."

Gohan left the room for a drink of water, but Videl followed him into the hallway. Naturally, Gohan sensed her trailing behind him, so he turned around to face her. "What's up?"

Videl folded her arms and looked to the side, trying woefully to appear indifferent. "Where do you live?" she muttered.

"In the East District," Gohan replied, raising his eyebrow. "439 Mountain area to be exact."

"Whoa, that's pretty far isn't it?" Videl remarked. She shook her head. "Whatever. But I really just wanted to know…"

Videl averted her eyes and blushed deeply. Gohan tensed up, wondering what was causing her bashful disposition. She mumbled something inaudible, making Gohan lean in closer to get a better impression of her voice.

Finally, she blurted it out. "I want you to train me!" she confessed, pushing her fierce pride aside. Gohan sighed, relieved for whatever reason. "I want to learn more about this Ki stuff. I doubt my dad would know much about it and well…I think you have a knack for teaching."

"I'd be glad to, Videl," Gohan answered, a bright smile on his face. He nervously scratched the back of his wild hair. "Well, as long as my mom doesn't have a problem with it."

"Awesome!" Videl cheered. She planted one more light punch on Gohan's face and gave him a confident smile. "You better not hide anything from me, either!"

"I'll try."

She stepped away and turned, preparing to walk away. "Well, it was nice meeting you Gohan! See you soon."

"Same to you, Videl," Gohan answered. He let his eyes linger on the haughty pig-tailed fighter as she walked away, thankful that it wouldn't be the last he would be seeing of her. It was high time he had a friend his age, after all.

Just moments later, Videl paused, cofounding Gohan. She restlessly tapped her foot on the floor as if she was mulling something over. Before Gohan could wonder what was on her mind, Videl spun around and marched to him, sporting his favorite sly smile.

She didn't give Gohan a chance to ask any questions before she grabbed the collar of his blue undershirt, yanked his head towards hers, and planted a kiss on his lips. Gohan would have shrieked had his mouth not been occupied. Of course, he didn't make an effort to fight it, either.

Seconds later, Videl shoved Gohan away from her and winked at him.

"Thanks for saving the world, too."

Sharp girl.

She gave him a thumbs up, spun on her heel, and sprinted away, an extra spring in her step.

Gohan's mouth just hung open. He couldn't move for several seconds. His eyes were wide enough to fit Videl's father's ego.

"Whoa…"

"Oh man, look at Gohan here, guys!"

 _Shit_. As if his teenaged embarrassment couldn't have grown any worse, there was Yamcha endearingly wrapping his arm around his shoulder while Roshi, Bulma, Chi-Chi, and even Krillin surrounded him. "See, I knew you had it in ya!"

"I always said Gohan would be a lady-killer," Bulma teased.

Krillin's grin was the most annoying of them all, even as he held Marron. "Guess this is gonna be you in a few years, huh?!"

Gohan frowned while the adults laughed at his expense. Clearly, they were thinking way too far ahead about things for Gohan's taste.

Then again, it wasn't like he didn't enjoy the kiss.

Trunks had also seen the exchange, and while he was certainly happy for the relationship that Gohan appeared to be forming with Videl, what pleased him even more was his embrace of the teacher role. In his timeline, Gohan's guidance was invaluable to Trunks becoming the warrior he was now. That the Gohan of this timeline could find inner peace in the same manner was a wonderful thing.

The biggest thing the past three days made apparent was just how much his Gohan would have loved to see a world of smiling faces again. Where he could find a Trunks that may have been a little more brash and ill-mannered, but full of life and joy. A Bulma that wasn't bearing the weight of the world on her shoulders. A Chi-Chi that wasn't left to die alone. Or Gohan himself finding companionship…which reminded Trunks of one last thing:

Where had he heard Videl's name before?

* * *

"No _fucking_ way!"

Trunks wiped red liquid from his eyes. It had been sprayed into his face by the woman sitting across from him.

"You're lying!"

"I swear, it's the truth."

"You're _lying_!"

"I wish I was!"

"So, what you're telling me, son…" Bulma began. It was the older version of his mother in his native timeline. She gawked at Trunks across the dining room table like he'd grown a second head. "…Is that Krillin and _Android 18_ got married and had a kid?!"

"It's too ridiculous for me to make up," Trunks snorted. It was nice to see somebody else besides himself absolutely flabbergasted by such a coupling. "I mean I thought it was a little weird that he broke the controller when we were trying to fight Cell, but I never figured _that_. He said something about her kissing him after she and 17 beat us up."

"Well, I guess I can't knock it," Bulma resolved. "Boy, you sure did a number on that timeline, huh?"

"Did I mention their daughter poked me in the eye?!"

Trunks was lucky Bulma wasn't still drinking or else she would have spat it on him again as she laughed. "Oh, man, I'm so sorry, son! One last 'fuck you' from Gero, huh?"

"You could certainly call it that," Trunks agreed. His mother was nothing if not deft with words, that was so sure.

"I've gotta say though, it's pretty neat that Gohan's got a girlfriend over in that timeline now, too," Bulma remarked. "He never did strike me as a ladies' man though."

"That was actually something I wanted to ask you about, though. I swear I've heard her name in this timeline before," Trunks noted. "Have you ever met a girl named Videl?"

Bulma gave it some thought, but the name didn't ring a bell. "Nope, can't say I have."

"Had Gohan at least mentioned any girls before?

Bulma chuckled. "Well, it's like I said. Gohan wasn't a ladies' man. Granted, he never talked about much other than the you or the Androids."

Trunks could certainly agree to that. His curiosity still bugged him, however, and much like his two parents, he was stubbornly dedicated to getting to the bottom of things. He glanced at the laptop that Bulma had set aside on the table.

"Hey, do you mind if borrow your computer?" Trunks asked.

"Yeah, sure."

Trunks reached across the table and pulled the laptop to himself. He had to admit, he felt somewhat like a stalker for going as far as he was, but he couldn't let the chance slip. He typed 'Videl' into a search engine. First, he needed to at least verify that a girl named Videl was even alive – in the broken era he lived, she very possibly wasn't.

To his luck, a few pages popped up. The top link was titled "Orange Star City Martial Arts Academy." That _had_ to have been it.

He clicked the link and it led to a home page for a martial arts dojo set up for at-risk, abandoned, and orphaned youth, filled with pictures of children dressed both in street clothes and formal martial arts attire. Their joy shined through in every picture, all of them shown smiling, laughing, and playing amongst themselves.

Trunks clicked on an "About Us" link, which had a brief bio explaining the dojo's history, and there it was – a picture of Videl! She sported long hair as opposed to the youthful pigtails, but it was unmistakably her. She was listed as the founder and head instructor, and an address was listed at the bottom.

"Hey, I found her on here," Trunks said, turning the laptop screen to Bulma to show her the page.

"A martial arts dojo, huh?" Bulma observed. "Yeah, that sounds like something a girl competing in tournaments as a teenager would grow up doing."

Trunks nodded in agreement. "You think I should visit her?"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Trunks, when have I ever told you not to give something a shot?"

* * *

The building was actually a modest house located in the suburbs of Orange Star City. Evidently, Videl operated the organization from her own home. What immediately struck Trunks' attention was the building's color scheme: orange and blue.

Trunks took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, tapping his fingers at his sides as he awaited an answer. He still felt silly for going out of his way to do something like this, visiting a girl just off a possibility that _maybe_ he'd _heard_ of her before.

After a few dozen seconds that felt like hours, the door knob twisted, relieving Trunks' anxiety. It slowly opened, revealing exactly who Trunks was looking for, clad in a blue shirt with word "FIGHT" stitched onto it with red letters.

"Hi, do I know you?"

Obviously, she was taller and more mature, but it was the same face and eyes that he'd seen in the past timeline. However, her eyes carried a forlorn weariness that was the complete opposite of her brash younger self.

Mimicking his master, Trunks scratched the back of his head. "Well, _not exactly_ , but you're Videl, right? My name is Trunks."

Videl folded her arms and tilted her head, studiously narrowing her eyes at Trunks.

" _Trunks._ Purple hair…blue eyes…of course! I can finally see you for myself!" Trunks was taken aback…then again, considering who his mom was, there was a strong possibility that over the last three years she'd told enough people within earshot about his victory that word would spread.

"Oh, you're familiar with me," Trunks commented.

"You were Gohan's pupil, weren't, you?"

Trunk' brain performed a backflip. "So, you _did_ know Gohan?!"

Videl laughed and pushed her door back, gesturing an invitation to Trunks. "How about you come on in? I think it'll be easier for you if we sat down and chat."

"Um, yeah, sure!" Trunks sputtered.

Videl led Trunks inside her home. Her living room was a simple set up, one that actually resembled the Son Family household's. It certainly wasn't the extravagant lifestyle that Trunks was certain her past-self enjoyed courtesy of her loudmouth father. Trunks' head spun as he looked around, urging his memory to tell him when and where he'd heard of her.

Videl sat down on her purple couch. "You're more than welcome to have a seat wherever you want!"

Trunks politely nodded and chose to sit in the chair adjacent to Videl's couch. "S-Sorry, it's just, my head's kinda spinning right now."

"Oh, believe me, you're not the only one. Gohan talked about you a lot but I thought I'd never be able to put a face to you," Videl replied. Unlike when she answered the door, her eyes were glowing. It was the same light that her past counterpart possessed whenever she talked to Gohan.

Sensing Trunks' mind, Videl continued. "Gohan and I were kind of an…item, I guess? Whatever it was, we were friends." Videl rested her head in her hands, looking ahead. "How long ago was it when we first met? Almost 20 years now, probably. I guess it's not important."

"That long ago, huh?" Trunks replied. He gripped the arm of his chair tightly. "Well, I'm sorry but…"

"You don't need to say it," Videl interrupted, her smile growing faint. "I know. Eventually, too much time had passed since the last time I saw him. I couldn't stay in denial."

Videl's somberly looked off into the distance while she dug through her memories. "He used to always show up with a new set of bruises. I'd cry and call him an idiot for fighting those monsters, and he'd tell me it was the only way. A much as I prayed every visit wouldn't be his last, I knew things would catch up. He put everybody's hope before himself."

"Definitely sounds like him…"

Videl laughed. "I was just a kid when the Androids first showed up. One day I was going to school, watching TV, doing other dumb kid things, next thing you know there's news of these killers rampaging through cities."

Trunks tersely nodded. Even after disposing of them, it was hard for the thoughts of their terror not to still infuriate him.

"My dad won some tournament and the glory went to his head. He thought he could fight those monsters, and well…" Videl wouldn't allow herself to finish her sentence, as Trunks pried his head away from her. "That's when Gohan first showed up. He…he couldn't save my father in time, but he rescued me. It was all so fast I didn't think he'd even remember my face, but a few days later he came to check on me. And he just kept showing up. Before I knew it, I fell in love with him."

Now Trunks was the one resting in his hands as he tried to jog his memory. For someone who seemed so important to Gohan, why was his only memory of her just a faint recollection of her name?

"Wait, I think I remember why I know your name now," Trunks mused. "I was training with Gohan once and he fell asleep. It seemed like he was having a nightmare. He kept writhing around on the ground and saying your name. I asked him about it but he told me stop worrying and made me do push-ups."

"What a dork," Videl snickered affectionately, drawing a laugh out of Trunks. "Yeah, Gohan was pretty shy; probably too scared to let anyone know he had a 'girlfriend,' if I could even call myself that. He liked keeping things private. I guess that's how he kept his sanity. He never mentioned anything about his family, where he lived…anything. The fact that I know about you is kind of a miracle."

"What did he say about me?" Trunks asked, coming off more child-like than he intended.

Videl didn't mind. "He adored you, Trunks. He always said you were the last beacon of hope for this world. And you were the one to finally get rid of them, weren't you?"

Trunks nodded.

A small tear welled up in the corner of Videl's eye, even as she smiled. "I know he's proud of you, Trunks. That was the only thing he wanted. As long as he breathed, he put it on himself to do something about it. I feel so silly for always telling him he had a death wish."

"Don't worry about it," Trunks said. "I don't think it ever mattered to Gohan if he lived or died. He knew the fight didn't end through him alone."

"Amen to that."

Trunks looked around at the living room. It was filled with plaques, certifications, and photographs, which reminded Trunks of the other element to her home. "I see you run a dojo here, too. It's actually how I figured out where to find you."

"Yup, it's how I stay in shape," Videl joked with a prideful smile. "Gohan didn't have to keep looking out for me the way he did. I was all alone after my dad died, but there he was, finding shelter for me and giving me a reason to keep smiling. I was hiding in this very building the first time he sought me out. He saw himself in me – a kid who lost everything and just needed a shoulder to lean on. So, I promised myself I'd provide what he did for me to other kids. Fighting is my passion, and there are so many kids out there with nowhere to go, just like we were. Figured I ought to put them together and help where I could."

"Did you ever get Gohan to train you?" Trunks asked, facetiously.

"God, no," Videl chuckled. "The furthest I got was getting him to show me how to use Ki and I'm pretty sure that was only because I kissed him and left him braindead."

Trunks smirked. Sounded like the other timeline.

The doorbell went off, startling Trunks. He frowned apologetically and stood up. "I'm sorry. You run a business here and I probably came barging in while you were expecting company."

"Oh no, you're fine," Videl assured, dismissively waving her hand at the timid man. Gohan clearly rubbed off on him. "In fact, if it's who I think it is, you might want to stay."

"Hm?" As Videl waltzed to the door, Trunks wondered who she was referring to. Chi-Chi, maybe? It _had_ been a while since he'd gotten in touch with her…

"Hi, mom!"

A small girl merrily stood in the doorway. She looked to be around six or seven, and favored Videl strongly albeit with spiky, disheveled hair and black eyes. Her smile filled Trunks with a feeling of familiarity.

"Home early, aren't we?" Videl asked.

The girl vigorously nodded. "Yeah, 'cuz I've gotten even faster running here!" The girl peeked past her mother's leg. "Who's the tall guy?"

Videl laughed and gestured towards Trunks. "His name's Trunks." She turned her full attention to him. "Trunks, meet my daughter, Pan."

Trunks nodded and politely waved. As most young kids were, Pan was somewhat shy in another adult like Trunks' presence, ducking her head and waving timidly at him. Videl ruffled her hair.

"She's my pride and joy, and…" Videl's lips formed into a somber smile.

"…Gohan's last gift to me."

Trunks' thoughts flat-lined.

"His…daughter…?" he hoarsely stammered.

Pan bashfully looked away while Videl nodded. "Yeah. I didn't find out until a few months after his final visit. I spent so much time worrying about how he'd react the next time he showed up."

Videl covered her mouth, trying to speak but choking behind sobs. The tears flowed freely from her eyes as she found it in herself to continue. "I was so scared…I didn't know if she'd ever see a world that wasn't a nightmare…I-I thought she could lose me, or even worse…!"

Videl wasn't the only overwhelmed by emotion. Trunks stood on shaky legs, trying to remain composed. But for all of the enemies he'd conquered, he couldn't ward off his tears. Videl stumbled over to him and clung her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder.

"Thank you so much…!" she whimpered. "You saved his daughter. You saved everyone…! Gohan can live on because of you!"

Trunks couldn't glue his eyes away from the crimson-faced girl who stood across from him. The more he looked, the more he could nearly see Gohan himself looking back at him. It was all a whirlwind to his mind.

Gohan had a daughter.

Gohan _and_ Goku had a legacy.

Videl backed away from Trunks and shook her head, embarrassed. "Sorry, it just all kinda piled on me at once. E-Excuse me for a sec."

Videl left the room and headed upstairs, leaving the two carriers of Gohan's name to engage in an awkward staring contest. Pan's expression carried a mix of awe and curiosity.

"You knew my dad, huh?" Pan asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah."

"Mom always gets worked up like that whenever she talks about him, so I don't ask her about him too much," Pan observed. "But he was strong, right?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Trunks said, wiping off his eyes.

"Hey, stick your hand out. I want to see something," Pan gruffly instructed. She carried herself with the same stern attitude as her mother from across the space-time continuum.

Trunks did as she requested. The little girl marched to Trunks, cocked her fist back, and punched Trunks' palm as hard as she could. To her dismay, he didn't budge.

"Crap! Looks like I've got some work to do," Pan grumbled as she glared at her fist. Trunks laughed; seemed like she took after her grandfather quite a bit, too.

Moments later, Videl returned. Though her eyes were still red, she looked much more composed than she had been before she left. She carried a wooden picture frame in her hands.

"I thought you might want this, Trunks," Videl said, offering the frame to him. Trunks retrieved the picture, as Videl explained. "It's the only picture I ever took of Gohan."

It was Gohan indeed, about the same age as his counterpart in the timeline Trunks had just returned from. This version of Gohan carried an edge to him, however; there was the scar that brandished his face, and the heaviness in his eyes. He was perched atop a rock, resting his arm on one knee and staring off into the distance. He either somehow cared enough to actually strike a pose, or had no idea he was being photographed. Trunks bet on the latter.

It was the Gohan he admired and missed terribly. It was around the time the picture was taken that Trunks became more aware of the hellish world around him and championed Gohan as his idol.

He returned it to Videl, however. "Nah, I think you should keep it. Pan deserves to have a treasure of her dad. People like us who knew him when he was alive won't ever forget his face."

Videl nodded in understanding. "Yeah, you're right." She looked at the picture once more. "I still see his smile every day. He didn't show it too often, but I always found a way to get one out of him. He needed something to ease his pain."

"I've got a friend who can relate," Trunks cryptically muttered.

"Say, you don't have a job or anything that keeps you busy, right?" Videl asked.

"Nope. I help my mom organize the rebuilding efforts around different cities, but things have come so far that most of them don't really need me anymore. Why?"

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to be an instructor here. You know a lot more about fighting than I do, and when these kids find out what you did, they'll probably listen to everything you say!" Videl offered, smiling brightly.

Trunks looked around the room, and settled his eyes back on Pan. He saw a child with a lot of potential, one who carried the same fire as the men who'd come before her. And then he looked at some of the pictures around the room – children who were smiling despite their rough upbringings. He nodded.

"Absolutely, Videl. That would be great!"

"Awesome! Thanks again, Trunks, for everything. Keep making Gohan proud!"

"Y'know, before his last fight with the Androids, Gohan knocked me out," Trunks said, surprising Videl. "I was mad at him about it for so many years. But when I see you two, and when I see how far everything's come along, I understand."

Videl firmly nodded and put her arm around Pan's shoulder.

"Well, I'll be off," Trunks said, heading for the door. "It was wonderful meeting you two! See you soon!"

"Same to you, Trunks!" Trunks waved, and Videl waved back.

"And next time, I'll knock you down for sure!" Pan promised, getting a laugh out of Trunks and Videl. Trunks gave her one last nod of regard and left.

Trunks shook his head in disbelief when he stepped outside, almost laughing at how things worked out. He looked to the sky, thinking about the past era. Time sure had a funny way of correcting itself.

Videl laughed as Pan sprinted to her room with extra inspiration fueling her stride. She looked at the photo of Gohan in her hands, remembering the moment she snapped it vividly.

_*FLASH!*_

_Gohan snapped his head to the side, startled. The fifteen-year-old perpetrator laughed mischievously and set her phone down on one of the many rocks the two lounged in._

" _Did you just take a picture of me?" Gohan asked._

" _Yeah."_

" _Why?"_

" _Well, it's not my fault you're so photogenic," Videl teased. Without even looking at him, she already knew he was rolling his eyes. He always seemed either oblivious or in denial of how handsome he actually was._

_For once, Gohan came to her without an assortment of bandages or bruises. He was exhausted, sure, but mostly from dealing with a motor-mouthed little boy who idolized him. While he wasn't reeling from pain, he was pensive, and in a moment of quiet he stopped to gaze off into the distance, deep in thought. As was typical of her on occasion, Videl was mesmerized as she observed him. She liked him best when he was calm and relaxed, so she'd decided to whip out her phone and capture him, knowing in the back of her mind that she might not have gotten an opportunity to do it again._

_Gohan shifted anxiously when Videl crawled closer to him. She tugged his blue undershirt to pull him closer to her, giggling at his shudders. For somebody who could fight killer machines without any regard for his life, Gohan found the silliest things to fear._

" _Permission to kiss you, sir?" Videl joked. She took Gohan's silence and crooked smile as the answer she wanted. She leaned closer, resting her palm on Gohan's chin…_

"…I thought you were here to train," a more relaxed, scar-free Gohan whined. Not that he could really complain, as Videl pulled away from him.

"Who says I can't kiss you _and_ train?" Videl coyly asked.

Gohan shook his head, wondering why he thought it was good idea to have a "pupil" for a girlfriend, too. Then again, that didn't stop her from making great progress; she could fly as easily as walking now. That moment at the tournament where she overexerted herself just to float for two seconds felt like a lifetime ago.

He couldn't help but laugh – he made having a companion who couldn't take her hands off of him sound like a curse. Such were the perks of peace.

"Now check this out!" Videl shouted before recklessly jumping off the cliff they'd been sitting on, making Gohan leap to his feet. But just a few seconds later she soared all the way to the sky like a rocket. As Gohan watched Videl float triumphantly in the air, he felt a light breeze brush against his face. Odd, there hadn't been any windchill all day.

He could swear the cloud behind Videl was shaped like a familiar set of hair.

**-END-**


End file.
